The 57th Hunger Games
by zookie33
Summary: A young girl volunteers for a life changing Hunger Games. She learns a lot about herself during this battle to the death. Rated T for gore and violence.
1. Chapter 1

As I rose up into the games, I glanced to my left and got my last glance at Gren. His tired eyes were crinkled with concern, and then he was gone. I wondered if Zoe was going okay at the sponsoring booth by herself. Gren had insisted he come with me and not Zoe, so I suppose he knew she would be fine.  
>As soon as I up the top I squinted my eyes shut. The glare from the sun was too bright from the dull white-washed room I was just in. I forced my eyes open and looked around. I didn't gasp at the surroundings like the other tributes were. We were on a savannah plain, and I was facing the side of the cornucopia, with the mound of goods facing me. The sky was bright blue with not a cloud in sight, and the sun was huge and white, bearing down on all twenty four tributes. In front of me, behind the cornucopia, was a field of what looked like wheat. To my left was a forest that stretched halfway round the arena and the rest was occupied by a winding river.<br>I was already calculating my way towards the Cornucopia. I could make it if I ran. I searched the weapons mound and saw my prize; a belt filled with daggers. It looked like someone had placed it there just for me and maybe the game makers did because of my performance. I allowed myself a smile when I saw it snugged right next to a black back-pack. The less valuable stuff was scattered closer to me but I didn't even glance at that. I shuffled my right foot back to the end of the podium I was on, not enough space to get a good push off, but it was better than nothing. I didn't look at my competition; I don't think I could bear calculating killing them all yet, especially Jet.  
>When the gong sounded I pushed off with my right foot. The tribute next to me was still gazing awe-struck around, but I didn't pay him any attention. I was off; running so fast I was afraid I'd fall over. I was the first to reach the cornucopia, leaping over the other weapons and snagging my belt and back-pack. I leapt down on the other side of the mound before the first tributes came. I ducked under the one that tried to punch me, but luckily he was more focused on getting weapons that chasing me. I was still running. When the boy I recognized from district eight stood in front of me, I simply just hooked a dagger from my belt and threw it at his chest. It stuck and he went down without even a change of expression. An arrow nicked my shoulder, but I kept sprinting from the bloodbath that always came on the first day. I crouched when I ran by the dying boy, and grabbed my dagger from his chest; wiping to blood on my leggings as I ran to the wheat field, not even noticing the first cannon blast of the fifty-seventh Hunger Games.<br>I could hear the sounds of the massacre behind me as I ran, but I didn't stop to join in. I just kept running. I closed my ears to the cannon blasts and looked around to see if anything the Capitol put in the wheat field was going to distract me. I turned sharply left and kept running for about two hours or so, moving diagonally to the savannah plain. I slowed down a bit after two hours, know I had to find some water or the like, rolling up the sleeves of my jacket. I slowed to a walk and glanced around for anything alarming, then squatted down and quickly sorted through my pack. In there, I found five packets of dried beef, a can of peaches, two empty one litre water bottles, water purifier, a hat and a sleeping bag with canvas. As I packed it away I smiled again, happy with my found, but the smile grew fixed when I heard the hurried flutter of small feet. I had noticed too late though, because as soon as I looked in the direction of the swaying wheat fronds, someone was crashing into me.  
>The person caught herself as soon as her hands touched the ground, flipping backwards on her hands away from me. I scrambled up as well, and we were facing each other. By her hair I recognized her as the tribute from district four. She was thirteen, I think, and had had he haired dyed aqua blue by her crazy stylist for the show. She was slight, softer looking than her male counterpart, but with the same bronze skin that clashed crazily with her hair. Her eyes were a soft blue with a darker shade of blue flecked around the pupil. I immediately grabbed my biggest dagger and swung it round in my hand. She stayed opposite me, watching me with wide, fearful blue eyes. And then I realized I couldn't kill her.<br>I motioned for her to go, but she stayed where she was. I saw she had a small red back-pack and no weapons, but I presumed by her flipping skills that she would be quite a hand-to-hand combat opponent. She hesitantly opened her mouth. "I saw your training score." She said. I grimaced at the memory of my high training score. Ten was okay by my standard, but according to others it was really great. But it wasn't even the highest of all the tributes. All I had done was fling knives around. I mean, sure, they had hit all the targets, even the ones I had thrown over my back, but, a score was a score, it didn't mean anything. I was still crummy at camouflage.  
>"I'm Xenia." She said, now half poised for flight. I didn't want to scare her away, so I smiled. Her shoulder sank down an inch, and her pinched, worried face smoothed a little.<br>"Hi, Xenia, I'm Mesilla." I said back. She almost relaxed completely now. Her eyes had gone from scared to curious.  
>"How'd you get such a high score anyway? I only got seven." She asked, pouting a little.<br>"Eh," I waved a hand vaguely, "I flung some knives around. How'd you get yours?"  
>"Flipped a bit and painted myself green." My attention snapped to her words.<br>"Are you good a camouflage?" I asked. She shrugged and said she was okay at it. I considered the question: would she be a good ally? She didn't look like she would be able to kill me if we became friends, and I could easily part with her before I had to do her in. I made a decision and held out a hand to her. "Ally?" I asked her. Her blue eyes widened and she dove at me, shoving me to the ground. I tossed her off me angrily, sending her flying into the wheat. Only then did I realize that she had pushed me under the speeding flight path of a big, bright blue butterfly.


	2. Chapter 2

The butterfly was beautiful, with cream as well as blue markings on its wings. Its eyes were large and glassy and I could see the small, fine teeth that lined its proboscis. Obviously it was a muttation. I slowed my movements and slowly pulled a medium dagger with a blade like an icicle out of my belt, sheathing my large dagger at the same time. Then I heard rustling behind me. "Xenia?" I asked. But the footfalls were heavier than Xenia's and they sounded like they were charging to kill, so, without taking my eyes of the butterfly, I dodged right and swung the girl I had dodged in front of me. She had dark skin and was holding a spear; she dropped the spear in surprise when I clamped my arms around her forearms and held her in front of me like a shield.  
>My movement had caused the butterfly to charge again, and I pushed the girl I now recognized from district eleven further in front of me. The butterfly's proboscis extended and went through the girl's chest. She flailed and screamed, but I didn't feel sorry for her because she had tried to kill me first. The butterfly started sucking the girl's blood from her chest cavity where the proboscis had struck; clamping its legs around her head to try and stifle her struggling, and that was sickening, so I ran, picking the spear up on my way, to where I had flung Xenia. She was standing in between the wheat fronds; shaking, so I guessed she had seen. When she saw me she grasped my hand in a quick handshake and said "Allies," then motioned for me to follow her out of here and away from the mutt butterfly. A cannon blasted and I guessed the district eleven girl had died.<br>After a while I fished my hat out of my pack and put it on. My head was hot with my new dark brown hair. I wanted my honey blond hair back, at least that half-reflected the sun. I can't believe I let Skree dye it brown. Xenia and I were still running through the wheat field but we were slowing. The sun was hot, but I wasn't letting Xenia take her jacket off. I knew that she would have a tank top like me on underneath, and fighting for our lives would be much harder if we were sunburnt.  
>We arrived at a mass of boulders after another hour of tramping through wheat. There was a big boulder sitting among other smaller rocks, but it looked like a good place to set camp for tonight, even though the sun didn't look like it was going to retire for at least another two hours. Xenia put a hand out to stop me as I started towards the rocks, and I glanced at her. She was staring confusedly at something at the base of the rocks, something I realized as a small orange pack. Then Xenia's eyes grew wide and she motioned for me to look closer at the rock. It took me a couple of seconds but my own eyes widened as I saw a boy perfectly camouflaged against the large boulder, standing on the other rocks. His dark eyes I had mistaken for granite and his body was covered in some sort of chalk dust that he had powdered on himself then blended in with the rock. I almost laughed when he started edging sideways. I turned to Xenia, "Look," I chortled "The rock's moving!" he froze but it was too late.<br>"No I'm not," he said. I had my largest dagger out of my belt again and had it pressed to his throat in seconds.  
>"Don't move," I growled. I pushed him off the rock onto the ground, and he sprawled at Xenia's feet. He curled up in a ball and whimpered.<br>"Don't kill me, I want to live! I have a whole life ahead of me; I want to see the ocean, I want to travel, I want to date, I want my first kiss, I want…" he went on. I crouched beside him.  
>"Tough, buddy," I interrupted "Unfortunately, it's not about what you want, it's about whether you live or not. And sadly, that's about to change for you." I raised my dagger, but Xenia, the little twerp, put her hand on my wrist.<br>"We could use him. He's obviously a little slow and stupid, but he can camouflage better than me, and we'll be set off well with him. We'll have you for weapons and long distance combat, we'll have me for hand-to-hand combat and dodging, and he can keep us hidden." She reasoned. I just think he was getting to her with his whole 'I've never seen the ocean but I've heard it looks like poetry come to life' crap. But… she was making sense. I remembered this boy now. He was from district seven, place of lumbar and trees, so maybe he knew about the plants and trees around here; hopefully he did because I didn't know squat.  
>"What's your name, boy?" I barked. He peeked at me through his arms that were covering his head.<br>"Danni," he answered.  
>"Can you camouflage other people other than yourself?"<br>"Yep. You bet. Once I was in the forest with my sister and the Peacekeepers came and we were like, 'whoa,' but I was like, 'no worries sis,' so I then…" I sighed.  
>"Shut up." I moaned. He clamped his mouth shut, but opened it again a second later.<br>"My mom's always saying I talk too much. The other day, well not the _other_ other day but a couple of weeks ago, really. Anyway, I was talking to her and she was all in my face and saying stuff like…" I tuned out. This boy was going to annoy me, but I suppose I want to live more than beat the stuffing out of this punk.  
>"Shut up," I said again. I started talking again before he could beat me to it. "Do you wanna join us in an ally thingamajig?" his eyes widened then he was blabbing on about how grateful he was that we had let him live, and something about how Xenia had cool hair, and what our names were and…. I couldn't even keep track, he was talking so fast. I rolled my eyes at Xenia, and she shrugged and grimaced back at me. I sheathed my dagger and tried to find some details about Danni.<br>"Why are you here?" I interrupted him again, but he didn't seem to mind.  
>"Here in the metaphorical sense? Or here as in here, right now?" he stopped joking when I glared at him. "Well, I came to the field first, and then I found this boulder. I realized it would be good because, if you come this way," he walked clockwise around the rock pile "I could get water. I found this in my pack, and I recognized it from home. We use it when we're on trips into the forest that take a while, like a couple of days, and I thought; rocks aren't so different from trees, are they? And I stuck it in then…" There was what looked like a metal straw suck into the ground at the base of the rock pile, dripping water onto a piece of plastic. I crouched, retrieved a water bottle from my pack and replaced the plastic. I then poured the water from the plastic into my bottle and turned back to the kids.<br>Now I could see him, Danni had black hair cut at irregular angles, hiding his pale but freckled face. His eyes were practically black and he was shorter than Xenia. I snorted. He stopped reciting poetry to Xenia and raised an eyebrow at me. I laughed again. "What are you, ten years old?" I asked, chuckling to myself. He frowned at me.  
>"I'm fourteen. Sorry, Miss I-look-my-age." He grumbled. Xenia smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. I don't know how she could trust him so quickly. This was the Hunger Games. Then I frowned as I realized I trusted her already; this would complicate things.<br>"Don't mind her; she's just cranky cos she was almost killed by a butterfly." Xenia smiled sweetly at Danni, then rolled her eyes at me behind his back. I chuckled and started setting up camp in the shadow of the rocky outcrop.


	3. Chapter 3

There was another bottle in Xenia's pack, along with another jar of water purifier. There was also a woolen cap, a jar of pickled baby cucumbers, sunscreen and a flint. Danni's pack had a brown broad brim hat, two pairs of sunglasses another bottle and another flint. I gave Danni the spear I had gotten from the district eleven girl, and set the canvas up; attaching the ropes to wheat fronds and propping it up against the boulder and the wheat. I then got Xenia and Danni to help me dig some earth so the ground was cooler on the floor. By this time the water bottle was full and I replaced it with my second and added the water purifier.  
>By the end of this, we all had our jackets off and were sweating like pigs, but luckily the sun was just setting. I knew this was bad because we didn't have much water, so I made us all take a break until we felt ready to finish. This was hard because I was used to working all day then either drinking from the water that the peacekeepers supplied to us or stealing from the livestock troughs.<br>"Hey, Mesilla, come up here." Xenia sounded strange. I lifted my eyes and saw her perched on the top of the big boulder. I scrambled up beside her and looked where she was pointing. My eyes widened and I shoved her off the rock; her blue hair would be too noticeable.  
>Four people were tramping through the fields: cursing the sun, by the look of it. One was a beautiful girl with light brown hair tied loosely in a knot at the back of her head, and she had scored an eleven in her training score. She was in front of the procession, slashing with something the get rid of the wheat fronds. The second in line was a hulking guy, all muscle, with brown hair so dark it was almost black. He was complaining to the girl in front, who in turn, was yelling back at him. The fourth boy in line was the boy from district four; Xenia's counterpart. He had wavy sea green hair, bronze skin, and, even from here, I could see his grimace. The last person was decidedly female, with jet black hair in a bun and a posture like one of the panther's I once killed when it tried to take my bull. She also scored an eleven, and those two girls were the only ones who beat me. She stalked behind the others saying nothing, but glaring at the boy in front of her. The strong tributes from district one, two and four, by the look of it.<br>I motioned for Danni and Xenia to stay put. The tributes didn't look like they were heading towards in our direction, but parallel to us, so I didn't tell Danni to repack his pack: the insides of which were still scattered around our little camp. Suddenly, someone was following them; a boy, by the look of it, with black hair and an olive complexion- the male tribute from district twelve. Abruptly, he swung a mace at the back of the panther-girls head. Suddenly, panther-girl was gone. She reappeared behind him and, with a crack I could hear from where I was perched, snapped his neck with a simple flick of her wrist. I slowly sunk down onto the rock face; lying flat I could just see the Careers over the soft heads of the wheat. I didn't want to be spotted, and I flinched at the sound of the cannon. They continued to traipse through the field, until they were lost in the yellow. The sun finally set when I couldn't see the big guy's shoulders anymore, and I slid back down to Danni and Xenia.  
>"Who was that?" they asked in unison.<br>"The strong tributes; the ones from districts one, two and four." I answered. Xenia gulped and Danni frowned at the floor.  
>"Was Marcus there?" Xenia asked. I asked her who the heck Marcus was. "The boy from my district, with the green hair. Marcus." She exasperated. I suppose she was tired.<br>"Yeah, he was. He doesn't look like a very happy guy," I answered, gently. Her eyebrows creased.  
>"Sorry," She mumbled. "He's my cousin, you know." Danni petted her shoulder sympathetically. I sighed. Another reason these games were inhumane. They didn't care who they put up against each other, as long as there was good sport.<br>I took first watch this night. It was cold, as if all the temperature had been sucked from the arena, so I put on the woolen cap and kept my hands in my pockets. Covering my knees was Danni's jacket, because it was too warm in the sleeping bag. Danni and Xenia were sharing the sleeping bag, curled up against each other and generating enough heat that, if I placed my hand on the outside of the bag, I could feel the warmth. At eleven o'clock I was to wake Danni up, and then at five he would wake Xenia. No-one had any objections to sharing a sleeping bag with each other because, just when we were eating a dinner of dried beef and baby cucumbers, the temperature had dropped and our noses had started freezing immediately. Then they had screened the first day's deaths. Seven had died; the two I had killed, the boy from district twelve, the girl from district five, both tributes from district six and the boy from district nine. Seventeen people left.


	4. Chapter 4

There was another bottle in Xenia's pack, along with another jar of water purifier. There was also a woolen cap, a jar of pickled baby cucumbers, sunscreen and a flint. Danni's pack had a brown broad brim hat, two pairs of sunglasses another bottle and another flint. I gave Danni the spear I had gotten from the district eleven girl, and set the canvas up; attaching the ropes to wheat fronds and propping it up against the boulder and the wheat. I then got Xenia and Danni to help me dig some earth so the ground was cooler on the floor. By this time the water bottle was full and I replaced it with my second and added the water purifier.  
>By the end of this, we all had our jackets off and were sweating like pigs, but luckily the sun was just setting. I knew this was bad because we didn't have much water, so I made us all take a break until we felt ready to finish. This was hard because I was used to working all day then either drinking from the water that the peacekeepers supplied to us or stealing from the livestock troughs.<br>"Hey, Mesilla, come up here." Xenia sounded strange. I lifted my eyes and saw her perched on the top of the big boulder. I scrambled up beside her and looked where she was pointing. My eyes widened and I shoved her off the rock; her blue hair would be too noticeable.  
>Four people were tramping through the fields: cursing the sun, by the look of it. One was a beautiful girl with light brown hair tied loosely in a knot at the back of her head, and she had scored an eleven in her training score. She was in front of the procession, slashing with something the get rid of the wheat fronds. The second in line was a hulking guy, all muscle, with brown hair so dark it was almost black. He was complaining to the girl in front, who in turn, was yelling back at him. The fourth boy in line was the boy from district four; Xenia's counterpart. He had wavy sea green hair, bronze skin, and, even from here, I could see his grimace. The last person was decidedly female, with jet black hair in a bun and a posture like one of the panther's I once killed when it tried to take my bull. She also scored an eleven, and those two girls were the only ones who beat me. She stalked behind the others saying nothing, but glaring at the boy in front of her. The strong tributes from district one, two and four, by the look of it.<br>I motioned for Danni and Xenia to stay put. The tributes didn't look like they were heading towards in our direction, but parallel to us, so I didn't tell Danni to repack his pack: the insides of which were still scattered around our little camp. Suddenly, someone was following them; a boy, by the look of it, with black hair and an olive complexion- the male tribute from district twelve. Abruptly, he swung a mace at the back of the panther-girls head. Suddenly, panther-girl was gone. She reappeared behind him and, with a crack I could hear from where I was perched, snapped his neck with a simple flick of her wrist. I slowly sunk down onto the rock face; lying flat I could just see the Careers over the soft heads of the wheat. I didn't want to be spotted, and I flinched at the sound of the cannon. They continued to traipse through the field, until they were lost in the yellow. The sun finally set when I couldn't see the big guy's shoulders anymore, and I slid back down to Danni and Xenia.  
>"Who was that?" they asked in unison.<br>"The strong tributes; the ones from districts one, two and four." I answered. Xenia gulped and Danni frowned at the floor.  
>"Was Marcus there?" Xenia asked. I asked her who the heck Marcus was. "The boy from my district, with the green hair. Marcus." She exasperated. I suppose she was tired.<br>"Yeah, he was. He doesn't look like a very happy guy," I answered, gently. Her eyebrows creased.  
>"Sorry," She mumbled. "He's my cousin, you know." Danni petted her shoulder sympathetically. I sighed. Another reason these games were inhumane. They didn't care who they put up against each other, as long as there was good sport.<br>I took first watch this night. It was cold, as if all the temperature had been sucked from the arena, so I put on the woolen cap and kept my hands in my pockets. Covering my knees was Danni's jacket, because it was too warm in the sleeping bag. Danni and Xenia were sharing the sleeping bag, curled up against each other and generating enough heat that, if I placed my hand on the outside of the bag, I could feel the warmth. At eleven o'clock I was to wake Danni up, and then at five he would wake Xenia. No-one had any objections to sharing a sleeping bag with each other because, just when we were eating a dinner of dried beef and baby cucumbers, the temperature had dropped and our noses had started freezing immediately. Then they had screened the first day's deaths. Seven had died; the two I had killed, the boy from district twelve, the girl from district five, both tributes from district six and the boy from district nine. Seventeen people left.


	5. Chapter 5

I glanced at the perfectly controlled horses, with their beautiful headgear of red and gold feathers that matched the colours on our outfits. I pulled the top of my costume down, and Jet slapped my hands away. Apparently Skree had told him I had to have big breasts; that it was all part of my 'sexy' appeal. At least she assured me my top wouldn't come flying off. I sighed and resentfully climbed onto my horses back, quickly maneuvering bareback on the brown horse to a comfortable position. I glanced and my short skirt that was split up the side to reveal the whole side of my thigh except the bit covered by the small strip of cloth connecting the front of the skirt to the back. My hair smelled of dye and my legs were itching in my red fishnet tights. My bare stomach, neck to the bottom low cut part of my gold top and arms had been oiled up to show the strong muscles in my arms and abdomen, whilst pronouncing the appeal of my raised chest. My crimson boots were soft leather with no heel to help me stay upright as I perform. My hair was out and around my face; my green eyes apparently 'luminous'. There was a thin layer of oil on my face as well, over the makeup that defined my eyes and made my lips luscious.  
>Whilst I didn't doubt my appeal as I saw some of the male tributes glance my way for far too long, I was uncomfortable. Jet was dressed in three-quarter loose shorts; a red vest that had the edges lined with gold stitching like my top and skirt and his bare chest arms and legs were also oiled to emphasize his prominent abdominal muscles and arms. Gold tight-fitting bands were placed just before his biceps to push the muscles up even more and his hair, whilst not dyed, was cut raggedly around his face. His feet were bare as he swung himself upon his horse with ease. He winked at me.<br>"Lucky we're used to horses, eh, Mesilla?" he chortled. I remembered our hours practicing horseback at the ranch in district ten. How I missed those carefree days.  
>"Ready to wow 'em, Jet?" I asked. He nodded and we both stood simultaneously as the tributes started riding in their shmancy chariots out of the doors and starting the parade.<br>We waved as it was our turn to leave behind the tributes from district nine. The sky was twilit and orange with the lights from the Capitol; Jet and I both grinning at the crowd and waving. When we got halfway to our destination I looked at Jet and he nodded. We presented our perfect tricks; sliding down the horse's necks and touching our feet to the ground or flipping and landing steadily on the livestock's backs. We had a scare once when some idiot threw a pair of underwear at Jet (can you blame her, really?) and the jocks landed on his face. He stumbled, slipping off his horse, but he lunched himself forward so he landed on the ground a few metres from us, landing on his hands and rolling into a crouch. When we passed he lightly jumped back on his ride and, grinning like he did it every day, and pointed at the underwear, winking at the cameras. I laughed, but inside I was shaking. If he could recover so quickly here, how fast will his reflexes be in the arena?  
>Smiling, Jet and I performed all the tricks flawlessly, bringing to crowd to hysterics, especially when we performed together. I flipped onto his horse whilst he spun under me onto my horse. I walked to neck of his steed and played with the feathers of its headdress, smiling modestly at the crowd. They were screaming our names and laughing with us. I blew them kisses and Jet raised his hand to me. We finished our performance with a high five, in which he entwined our fingers when I left my hand on his. We stopped a little to the left of President Snow's house and then our performance was over.<br>President Snow's speech bored me from the first word, but I looked interested. We got maybe a few seconds more screen time than the other tributes, but I had heard from Gren that the cameramen were wimps so I convinced myself that was why.  
>When President Snow had finished his speech and dismissed us, the ride back was pretty uneventful, except Jet flung the underwear back at the crowd, causing people to grab it like they tried to with my kisses. They weren't even his pair of undies! We were standing but we didn't do any tricks because people were throwing flowers and such at us. It would be too dangerous, so we caught flowers and sniffed them. I blew a few more kisses and then we were in the training area.<br>Some tributes were gaping at us. Jet and I breezed past them, looking superior. I accidentally knocked the boy from district seven with my arm, but I didn't apologise. He was dressed as a tree and looked super weird as he babbled on about the ethics of apologizing. Eh.  
>We got back to floor ten soon enough, and ate dinner of rich pumpkin soup and roast lamb. I drank some bright pink juice that they <em>told<em> me didn't have alcohol in it, but I was giggling for the rest of the night anyway, so I didn't believe them.  
>We were stunning on telly. Skree had done a wonderful job, and we all laughed at the underwear incident. I was still giggling through President Snow's speech, but I tried to control myself when and Avox looked at me sternly and tapped his lips. A warning, if I ever saw one, so I pressed my lips tightly together. But when we rode out again a fresh wave of hysteria-induced sniggers engulfed me and I practically rolled on the floor, laughing. I guess it was nerves.<p>

"Hey Mesilla, look at this!" Danni's voice shot me out of my recount. He was squatted next to the edge of our little clearing; evidently looking at something small that amused him. I slid off the boulder and walked around him and crouched to look at the creature. It was a toad; dull green warty skin, bulbous eyes that stared in opposite directions and a small horn on the tip of its blunt nose. Its mouth was wide, and when it croaked deeply, you could see its mouth was pale yellow with a long sticky tongue. Its flat webbed feet had tiny but sharp claws that dug a little into the earth as it sat further back on its haunches. Xenia crawled towards us and sat on her heels. Danni turned his face to me and asked; "Can we eat it? It looks fat enough, and, though I know it's a toad, not all toads are poisonous are they? I mean, some were poisonous back in district seven, but…" I glanced back at the toad as it opened its mouth again, but not to croak, as its tongue shot out of its mouth and stuck with a sultry slap to Danni's cheek, right on his cheekbone. He laughed at it and pulled back. The toad slid a few centimeters on the ground as it slithered, still attached by its tongue, with Danni as he pulled away. Then he started screaming.


	6. Chapter 6

"It's burning me! HOLY CRAP IT'S BURNING ME!" he yelled, trying with vain to get the end of the toad's tongue off of his slightly smoking skin. He pulled at it with his fingers, but took them away immediately as they burned too. I whipped out a dagger as Xenia started screaming with Danni, probably worried the little damsel, and severed the tongue near the toad's mouth. Danni then successfully yanked it from his face, and Xenia immediately shut up and started to help him heal the blistered skin. I stabbed the toad, severing its spine and not stopping the plunge of my knife until I saw it poke out of its stomach. As I pulled out the knife, the blade was covered in sickly green blood.  
>Danni's injury wasn't too serious, the swelling was big but the acidic spittle of the toad's mouth hadn't burned through his cheek too deep. Xenia was applying a gauze made out of a strip her pants when we heard it; another deep-throated croak. We whirled concurrently and, sure enough, there was another toad sitting across from us at the other end of the campsite. It was joined by two more, then another four. Slowly, the toads formed a little crowd that was croaking and gazing stupidly at us. One hopped forward, then another, but we were gone, scooping up our packs and fleeing through the field.<br>We ran for an hour, but we could not seem to escape the cawing of the toads. Our heels were getting licked and I was wasting running time crouching and cutting the tongues off our calves and heels. Xenia booted the crap out of them, landing a huge belt on one that attached its tongue to her leg. Danni having to run with an injury had been bad enough, but after an hour we were tiring and bleeding as the thin skin on our ankles was repeatedly being lashed with acidic spit. I thought the wheat fronds seemed to be thinning when suddenly they stopped. And when they did, so did the rasping of the frogs.  
>We stopped after another ten minutes of quiet jogging, during which Xenia and Danni were both crying quietly. I was successfully keeping my eyes dry, though the blistered skin hurt a lot more than it looked.<br>We got patched up; making bandages and gauzes out of leafs and strips of clothing or backpacks. Xenia had a big raw patch down her leg where the toad that she kicked the stuffing out of's tongue ripped off a long layer of skin and I had lots of flecks of marks, small jottings of blistered skin over my calves. We decided to get away from the rampaging path we made through the woods, creeping silently through the forest. Danni lived up to his duty and made a perfect camouflage for us when we found a stream, using mud and leaves. We refilled our water bottles from the stream, having left our metal pipeline at the boulder. We added a small shake of water purifier and moved on. We came to a very small clearing and I decided to stop and lick our wounds; it was time to make camp for the night. A cannon blasted and I checked my kids immediately. They were fine, so I shrugged it off, but I heard the ominous echo of a toad croak in my mind. I shivered and got around to making camp.  
>We set the canvas on the ground and covered it with a thin layer of mud to disguise its blue surface. Xenia and Danni started to set up camp, and I had a quick gulp of water before telling them I was going hunting. We hadn't had fresh meat in ages and we were all hungry for juicy mutton. I told them I wasn't going far and to start a small fire. A <em>very<em> small fire. They nodded and I left as Danni started singing again. He had a lovely voice.  
>I hunted about one hundred metres from our camp and caught two rabbit-looking things. They looked almost like a rabbit; except their eyes were blue and their tails were long, but they were plump and looked like good eating. It was good practice to throw knives again, and it sent a nice feeling in my stomach, a feeling of performing right and good practice. When I heard someone running parallel to me, I jumped out of view and followed at a crouch, staying low and following the person until they stopped. It was the girl from district eight. She was crying and gasping for breath, but glancing around. Suddenly she screamed "<em>Where are you?<em>" I started when she screamed. I was about to step out and finish her off, when I heard a noise. The tiniest crack of bark from one of the branches in the treetop. Suddenly the girl looked up; her sleek red hair falling from her face, but it was too late. A shape dropped lightly from the branches of the tree closest to her and landed with a soft **whump** on her shoulders, and I jumped back further behind my tree. When a sharp crack was heard and, as cannon blasted, I peeked around again. A boy was there, dressed like the rest of us, with light brown hair and slightly tanned skin. He was a rarity from district eleven; one of the pale ones. He had his pants rolled up to his knees and was grinning stupidly. He would've been my age, with brown/amber eyes and lots of freckles. He was slim and muscular but he didn't look like one of the treetop workers that usually accompany district eleven tributes. The body of the girl from district eight was facing down, but her head was facing up as her neck was twisted 180 degrees around, her eyes wide and staring blankly at the treetops. The boy kicked the girl's body over and searched her pockets, swinging her backpack up on his shoulders as he did so. He punched the air and quietly whooped, then scrambled up a tree like a monkey and was gone. I heard one last snigger and the tiny break of bark, and then I could find no trace of him. The hovercraft came and picked the girl up, her broken neck dangling eerily as she rose into the air, and I realized I've been gone far too long and ran back to Danni and Xenia, hoping they wouldn't be crying their eyes out over the cannon blast.  
>I couldn't see them when I came back. I panicked immediately, but then two slight figures jumped out of two adjacent bushes, running to me and hugging me, both at the same time. I dumped my kill on the canvas and returned the hug, treasuring this moment as I buried my face in camouflaged Danni and Xenia's hair. I then hurriedly stood back and coughed; I hadn't showed strong emotion for a while. I congratulated them for their camouflage and set to making dinner.<br>That night the girl from district eight and the boy from district one faces hung in the sky. That must have been the cannon blast I heard when we first arrived in the forest. "Only eleven left now," I told Danni and Xenia. I decided when we got down to eight I would split with them and go my own way. The rabbit-things were good; juicy but not too greasy and fatty to upset our stomachs. We had a drink of water then decided to sleep early and start at dawn tomorrow; moving on. I wanted to be away from the place where the boy I dubbed as Drop-Bear Dude's territory. I wanted to go back to our wheat field, but I knew the Capitol wouldn't let us. I supposed, for me, this was one of the quieter Hunger Games I had experienced. Except I was _in_ this one, not just watching it.


	7. Chapter 7

In the morning, we travelled for four hours with no stops. We alternated between jogging and walking, and we followed the stream. We followed the brook to where it flowed through a rocky outcrop; the stream snaking into a small river, winding through rocks and crevices. We came to where the water joined the main river, the one I could see from the first day. The clear water ran off in a small waterfall to join the muddy brown torrent that cascaded around in tight meanders across the plain. As we watched, another rabbit-thing fled out of the forest only a few metres from us. It was followed by a snake that slithered faster than I had ever seen a snake go. As a last refuge, the rabbit-thing jumped into the muddy brown water and started paddling across. Almost immediately, the water turned crimson and the rabbit-thingy squealed and thrashed, then we all saw the fish.  
>"Piranhas," Xenia murmured, and turned her face away in disgust. The snake hissed, annoyed, and then went back into the undergrowth as the rabbit-thing was pulled under. I was glad it didn't see us.<br>We made our way back upstream a few kilometers, and then walked for another half hour until we were in a thicket of scraggy bushes and trees. The trees were broader around here, their leaves wider and greener. "Rainforest," Danni breathed in the musky scent of rotting leaves and grabbed a knife from my belt. It was the shortest sentence I'd ever heard him say. I allowed him to take the knife, and he hacked away the outer-bark from one of the trees. Inside were fat white insects that looked like extra large maggots. Xenia and I stared repulsed as Danni picked one up and showed it to us. He grinned at our nauseated faces and said something even more evil than showing maggots to two girls. "Food," he smirked at us.

That night, after a strangely filling meal of the pale larvae that Danni said were high in calories and protein, we watched the sky as it played the Capitols anthem. There were no deaths today, and as Xenia took first watch, and I circled my arms around Danni in the sleeping bag. He nestled into my shoulder and was sound asleep in minutes, but I stayed awake, watching Xenia perch in a tree watching us and the surroundings. She had the woolen cap over her hair and my jacket on her legs as she huddled in the fork of the tree. She didn't notice me watching her, so every few minutes she'd look at Danni and smile softly. I sighed and, accidentally, blew air on Danni's face. He opened his eyes and smiled innocently up at me. My heart broke as I stared into his warm eyes that blinked trustingly at me. Eventually one of the two of us would die, and I hoped, for the first time, that it would be me. I wanted both of them to live, so much that my chest felt like it was about to burst. I don't know what happened to the person who left district ten prepared to kill everyone, but she wasn't here now.  
>Knowing he wouldn't remember it in the morning, I kissed Danni's forehead and whispered "I love you, honey." to him. He smiled sweetly but drowsily back and closed his eyes.<br>"I love you too, Mesilla." He whispered and laid his head on my chest and went back to sleep. I pressed my face into his hair and tried to keep the tears at bay. I knew the Capitol would be eating this up, wanting to see how it would end. But I knew how. I'd do everything, _everything_ in my power to keep these two alive. Maybe, just maybe, if I could get the two of them or the three of us even, to the end then I could protect them; keep them breathing. And as a single tear made its way down my cheek, I swore that I would live long enough to see the Capitol brought down, and I wanted it done soon. I wiped my eyes and went to sleep, because I knew that if I slept and got energy, then I would survive. And I could keep my kids alive. And I will.

The next day we trained. We spent the best part of dawn to dusk exercising, hunting and teaching. I was helping Danni and Xenia to hunt and to throw knives. Xenia taught us the right ways to punch and kick, whilst helping us evade attacks by improving our flipping techniques. Danni was the most valuable teacher to me because he taught me how to further my camouflage skills. He taught me how to become a tree, the sky, a rock, anything I wanted to be.  
>We hunted duck-like things that waddled the forest, and Xenia and Danni were gaining skills. When Xenia brought down another rabbit-thing, I smiled like a proud mom. I felt like that too, so I dropped my smile and focused on gutting and skinning the thing. By the end of the day we were exhausted and, I don't know about the kids, but I haven't felt like I learnt this much since a long time. While we ran, looking for somewhere to camp, I spotted something. There was a strange plant in a clearing we hadn't passed before. It was big; almost as tall as me, and looked like fungus as it clung to the side of a tree. The clearing it was in was small, but had a few yellow feelers crawling from the trees into the middle of it. The plant was bright red, with yellow lining on the edges of the flat petals. The petals were closed and met at the top, and were stained with flecks of scarlet.<br>I walked towards the plant, Xenia and Danni behind me and stopped behind one of the yellow feelers. I saw it was connected to the plant. Danni stepped to the side and observed the body of the plant through the last few rays of the sun.  
>"Hey Mesilla," he said, as I reached out a finger to touch a feeler. "Don't touch that." Danni wasn't looking at me, but was sadly staring at the plant. Xenia and I carefully avoided the feelers and came to him. From where he was standing, I could see what he could.<br>From here, the sun's rays were shining towards us and hitting the plant. It made the plant's thick petals slightly translucent; enough that we could see the humanoid shape curled in fetal position in the middle of the body of the plant. I stared, sickened and glad that I hadn't touched the feeler that would have whisked me to my fate. This was one of the deaths of the tributes who had been unlucky enough to encounter this carnivorous plant. The body of the tribute must have been suspended in some kind of liquid; probably some sort of stomach acid that the plant had.  
>"Can we go?" whispered Xenia. I glanced at her and saw she had turned a pale shade of green and was shaking again. She must not cope well when animals- or plants, I now added to my repertoire- ate people. Danni and I nodded assent and we all ran lightly into the woods a few kilometres and set up camp for the night.<br>It was my first watch, so I straddled the same branch Xenia was in last night and wiped the sweat off my brow. During the day, the temperature was rising and it was so hot I was sweating after running only a kilometre. At night, it was the exact opposite. The temperature dropped and dropped, becoming so chilly our breath misted in the air. Night was becoming shorter as well, and we all woke up feeling like we didn't sleep well.  
>The anthem played and we saw that no one had died today, and I knew the Capitol was getting bored: these games were getting dull according to the citizens of the Capitol. They wanted some action.<br>I watched Xenia and Danni in the sleeping bag, conversing in whispers and then falling asleep in each other's arms. I observed them sadly but with a desire to get them through this so much my chest ached again. I knew the game makers will want to kill them so much now because the other one would be hurt so badly. To entertain the Capitol, that's what they wanted to do. And it made me sick.


	8. Chapter 8

In the morning, we packed and left camp, but I had something heavy weighing on my mind. I turned to my kids and called a meeting under a thicket of trees. They looked curiously at me and I faced facts; all three of us were not going to make it.  
>"If one of us dies," I started. They both broke into loud protest, forgetting for the minute that we were in a territory where anyone might hear us. I held up a hand and they fell guiltily silent. "If one of us dies, we need an action plan. If I die," another pained whimper from the two of them, "I want you to take my pack and my belt and use it to help yourselves. Use it in any way to survive. For me." They nodded.<br>"The same with me. If I die before I see the ocean, I want you two to live and take my pack. Though I want to live, so no worries, I won't be dying anytime soon." Said he smiled and took a big breath of air, like he was showing us that he would be breathing like that for a while longer.  
>"I want you both to take my stuff too." Xenia said staring strongly at us. "We'll do everything to help each other get through this. It's what we all would want." I smiled at her proudly and she clasped my hand as well as Danni's. We stood there for a moment, entwined with visions of death before us. Then we let go and stood there.<br>I was about to ask where they wanted to head next when I heard it. The tiniest crack of bark. Something stirred in my memory, but I couldn't grab onto it. Then Danni asked; "Did you hear that?" and he and Xenia both looked up, their hair falling across their eyes. Then I was hit by such a big wave of nostalgia I was almost sick. I grabbed the kid who was closest to me; Xenia, by the first piece of her available; her hair. I threw her behind me out of the clearing, hearing her screech as her hair was yanked, and then I reached for Danni. I grabbed his jacket sleeve and I knew we were going make it. We were going to make it, and then _kill_ Drop-Bear Dude as he dared to impose on this family moment.  
>Then, as I was pulling Danni away, I heard another crack of bark like someone was shifting their weight on the branch above us, and then Danni's arm was torn out of my grasp, and I heard his body hit the ground. There was a soft <strong>whump<strong> and a **whoosh** of air from Danni's lungs as a heavier boy landed on him, and then there was a hideous crack. Then, as if the Capitol itself was laughing at me, a cannon blasted and I knew, for one of us, it was over.

Drop-Bear Dude stood up, casually kicking Danni's body out from under him. I was numb. I heard Xenia come back into the clearing and then start whimpering as she saw the scene before her. The early morning sun was shining through Drop-Bear Dude's hair, giving him a halo that made his good looks stand out even more. He grinned at me and said the next thing that I didn't expect in a day full of surprises.  
>"Hi there," DBD said, smiling playfully at me. I gradually sensed that my mouth was open, but I felt too tired to close it. "My name is David. What's yours?" These words were not making any sense in my head. I think I would have to sit there the whole day just to remember the first letter my name started with. Xenia had started to make her way in small steps towards Danni's body. She was crying big, fat tears and hyperventilating. And seeing her like this made something wash through me. Not just feeling, but hatred. Licks of heat were starting at my fingers and toes and meeting at my heart. And I knew what I must do, for Danni's sake, and my own.<br>I smiled coyly at DBD "My name's Mesilla. Hi, David, how're things?" I remembered him now. He was one of the ones who stared at me from his chariot on the parade night. The only thing I didn't know was what game he was playing with me.  
>"I'm actually having a great time." He smiled warmly at me, supposedly glad I was speaking after my few minutes of stunned silence. "You?"<br>"Pretty good. The animals around here have been a little too vicious for my liking, but I survived." I practically had to choke out the word 'survive'. Because I did and one of my kids didn't.  
>"I saw you at the parade," he started. Now I could see him nearer, I could tell he must've been a little closer up on the hierarchy than the usual district eleven tributes. He had a rounded face that even the arena could not totally erase. His skin was tanned, he had sort of a wiry build and his hair was pretty much just elongated spikes. And he had a nose too small for his arrogant face. I decided, from then on out, that I hated small noses.<br>"I liked your costume, it was pretty sexy." He nodded and grinned at me. I was disgusted, but bobbed my head and smiled back at his repulsive conceited face. "And, I was thinking," he stepped forward and gingerly touched his hands to my waist. He smelt like gum leaves and fire. "That, y'know, because you're a pretty girl and I'm a pretty guy, that we should, you know, have some fun before… one of us… dies?" it took all of willpower not to throw up or start crying. Xenia wailed from behind us but I ignored her and so did Drop-Bear Dude. I carefully hooked a long dagger from my belt and looped my arms around his neck. Luckily DBD wasn't watching my hands; he was looking at my lips. I leant in and gingerly touched the tip of my dagger to the back of his throat and he stiffened immediately. I leant my head in, so close that I almost touched my lips to his.  
>"Only if we can do it my way," I whispered seductively. The same voice I had given Ceaser Flickerman during my interview. Then I was shoving him to the ground and kneeling on his chest. He looked up at me and knew I had to do this quick before the hovercraft that came to pick up Danni's body became too impatient and shot us all with sedating darts. I traced my dagger around DBD's lips. He wasn't smiling anymore and neither was I, but I was going to enjoy this. Just as I was about to cut his meager lips off, I thought; <em>this is for you, Danni.<em> Then a thought crossed my mind, that maybe Danni wouldn't have wanted me to torture this gutless wrench. David was frozen on the spot, sweat beading his forehead and upper lip, tears running down his cheeks. He didn't dare speak in fear that he would damage his raging kissing machines, but I decided not to cut off his lips now. I set my dagger down and slid my knees of his stomach. I smiled at him and said; "I hope you're enjoying yourself." He breathed out in relief. I cradled his head in my hands and leant down. I was surprised when he fell for this trick again, closing his eyes and smiling at me. I mean, this _was_ the Hunger Games. But, as my lips were an inch from his, I smiled back at him even though I knew he had his eyes shut. "Just kidding," I snarled, and his eyes flew open, but it was too late. I swiftly twisted his head to the side, and, for the second time that day, there was a sharp crack that rang through the forest. Another cannon fired and I finally allowed myself to cry, rolling off Drop-Bear Dude's lifeless corpse and crawling over to Danni's body.


	9. Chapter 9

Ceaser Flickerman shook my hand as I took the seat opposite him. I was smiling confidently, seductively, and I was sure I looked great. Skree had stuck with the circus theme, so now my hair was in a high ponytail and I had extensions in to make my hair look longer; the end of my ponytail reached my lower back. My eyes were lined thickly with black liner and mascara and my lips were sea-shell pink, full and luscious. I had on a skimpy outfit of pink sequins and ballet flats with ribbons that entwined up my leg to my knees. My nails were just painted in a clear lacquer but I had a layer of shimmery silver glitter on my exposed skin.  
>"Hello Mesilla." Ceaser said. I smiled brilliantly back,<br>"Hi, Ceaser. How're you?" I spoke in a husky voice, low and seductive, and I remembered Gren telling me to be casual but sexy, and to play that card well.  
>"Fine thanks Mesilla. Wow, you're beautiful. Any one in particular who knows that back in district ten?" District ten. God, I missed district ten so much. I thought about Gregg, my oxen, back in my district. I hoped he'll be fine once I was gone. But Ceaser meant people. Boyfriends. And I knew what Gren said about this question. Make yourself desirable. If someone does before you, be more popular, more envied than them. Beat them and you stay alive.<br>I smiled cheekily at Ceaser. "There are… some guys…" There were really no guys. I stayed clear of all boys since my father beat my mother to death in a drunken rage. Except my friends, but it never went anywhere from there. If there was one hint of attractiveness from one of the boys, I'd lock them out of the picture. Nope, no guys. "I'll tell you a secret," I smiled at the crowd. They gasped and leant forward like my microphone attached to my outfit wouldn't allow them to hear my every word. Ceaser leant forward himself and offered me an eager ear. "I'm actually dating… _two_ boys." Then I abruptly held my finger too my lips. The crowd gasped and went wild, screeching and giggling to themselves. Ceaser's eyes went wide in, I'm sure, fake shock. He'd seen it all before. "Aren't you a wicked girl then, Mesilla! Can you tell us their names?"  
>I smiled strikingly at Ceaser, and I half lidded my eyes and lifting an eyebrow to add the extra touch of sexiness. I hastily scrolled through the names in my head eliminating Gregg, Jet and Gren. "Well," I looked at the camera and winked. "Sorry guys. Peter and James. And they both have rockin' bods." The crowd screamed with mirth and looked like they were about to wet themselves. Skree gave me a thumbs up from the crowd and I gave her a grateful smile back. Skree could be eccentric at the best of times, but she was lovable; she really was.<br>Peter was actually a scrawny boy who looked like a chicken. He had white hair the colour and texture of down and actually was the son of the poultry man. James was actually pretty good looking. He had those chiseled features few had, but he worked day-in-day-out in the livestock fields so he now had a hunched back and walks with a limp. I realized as soon as I'd said their names that, if I made it to the final eight, they would be the first two interviewed. A flash of fear went through me. Why didn't I say the names of _actual_ good looking people? My chest rose and fell rapidly twice, and then I was calm again. It didn't matter, I would have sponsors anyway.  
>"Now, Mesilla, away from your boyfriends." Ceaser enunciated the <em>s<em> in the end of boyfriends. I laughed and smiled seductively at him, retaining my air of overconfidence. He coughed. "What's your strategy in the games?"  
>I knew easily how to answer this one. "If I told you, I'd tell those guys," I jerked my manicured hand behind me at the other tributes. "And that would be bad, wouldn't it, Ceaser?" I winked at him, and then turned to look over my shoulder and give the tributes a kiss; blowing it off my hand. I glimpsed the tributes; most glaring at me. The boy from district one, girls from districts two, three, nine and twelve were all but throwing dagger with their eyes. The rest were either frowning at me or looking away at the crowd or the roof. Jet was smiling but shaking his head at the same time. I took notice of the girl from district four and the boy from district two. The boy was gazing at me happily like a little boy who had just seen a really pretty sparkly object. It was actually a pretty freaky expression coming from that hulk of a guy. The girl from district four was wearing an adorable outfit with a blue dress that poofed out around her waist, pink ribbons that floated behind her, pink socks with a strip of lace on the top and blue shoes, the same hue as the dress. She reminded me of a really cute, pretty jellyfish. She was staring at me with a doubtful expression, but it looked like she was silently congratulating me as well.<br>I turned back to Ceaser and looped my ponytail around my fingers. He was grinning delightedly at me and I knew he thought- they a_ll_ thought- I had spunk. And I did. So take _that_ Jet: silly boy, your shaking of your head is going to get me killed.  
>"Now, Mesilla. On parade night, I have to say you wowed all of Panem. Am I right?" Ceaser turned to the crowd and they screamed in assent. I waggled my fingers at them. "You and Jet over there seem to be well acquainted. Tell me, how do you two know each other?" I took a deep breath.<br>"Well… we go to the same school in district ten and he's friends with some of my friends. We didn't really know each other well, though." I laughed.  
>"How did you synchronize your tricks so well? I doubt you had time to practice here in the Capitol." Ceaser prodded me on with my reminiscence story. I stretched my mouth in a smile whilst simultaneously wiping my sweaty hands on my legs.<br>"Well, he knows this girl I know, and we know this guy and that guy owns a ranch with horses. We went riding when we had free time. Jet and I tried out a couple of tricks some time ago and, yeah…" I trailed off. I didn't tell them about the ranch actually was full of the horses my district bred for the Capitol and that we wanted to wear them out so they would have some fun before they got here. Ceaser nodded assent and I winked at him again.  
>I hoped my time was almost up. I was losing my buzz and I was running out of funny remarks. Ceaser joked with me a bit on how my 'boyfriends' would dump me now I've told them about each other. I laughed all the way and said they appreciated my body too much to dump me, and they'll make up some excuse that they 'didn't see this broadcast' or something of the like. Then, like the angels themselves singing, the buzzer went. I got up and shook Ceaser's hand then walked surely back to my chair beside Jet and the guy from district nine, walking lightly and gracefully in my ballet flats. I sat down and then smiled at Jet as he got up for his interview. He waggled his eyebrows at me in a sign I presumed either was <em>well done you were great<em> or _you look really sexy tonight_. Either one was a complement, so I settled in my chair and crossed my ankles like a lady. And then I thought to myself; _That went well._


	10. Chapter 10

Together, we cried. But during the onslaught of tears, I managed to gently turn Danni's head the right way round, and then twisted his body so he was facing up. I tried many a time, to pull myself together and comfort Xenia, but when the hovercraft picked up Drop-Bear Dude, I completely lost it.  
>"<em>No!<em>" I screamed at the sky. "No! You can't take him! _I won't let you!_" I shielded Danni's body from the sky with my own flesh and wailed and screamed profanities at the sky. Then Xenia was in front of me, taking my arm and pulling me away. I let her, turning and sobbing on her shoulder. Soon, her jacket was running with tears and snot, but we made it away from the clearing. I didn't turn to see the hovercraft take Danni's body. Neither did I care what they did with DBD's.

That night we camped under a thicket of bushes. I was ashamed that a thirteen year old had to drag me away from a body. He was gone. Nothing would bring him back. We inched under, but when the Capitol's anthem played through the arena, we crawled out to look at the sky. Danni's face was in the sky first and I smiled through the thick mist in my head. He was smiling in his 'mug shot', grinning like an idiot at the camera. Just as I expected him too. Drop-Bear Dude was there as well, but we both just frowned at the picture. _Go to hell and rot there,_ I thought. He deserved that for doing this to my family. For killing one of us off. And I made a pact with myself that I would protect Xenia at all costs.  
>That night, the strong tributes found us. I cursed myself for not seeing them coming. I wasn't sleeping anyway, because when I closed my eyes I saw Danni dying over and over again, so I didn't need to sleep. I was pumped with adrenaline. We had no head start so the first thing I did when I saw them prowling towards us was scoop Xenia up and scramble up one of the trees we were hiding under. Once we were in a fork about two-thirds of the way up, I put one hand on Xenia's elbow to steady her, one hand on the tree limb next to me. All four of them were there; panther girl, the hulk, the beautiful chick and Marcus. Now that I could see them closer up, the hulk had a huge nose, protruding forehead and thick-as eyebrows. But he still had the same expression that he had showed on the interview night; childish. He was smiling up at Xenia and making strange motions with his hands, which were slightly raised to about hip height. On his hands were thick golden bands of knuckle-dusters.<br>Panther girl was gazing up at us with eyes that glittered with hate. She was smiling, though, so I had a feeling she would enjoy killing us. _Me,_ I corrected myself. If I had to take down all four of these monsters, I would, to keep Xenia alive. Panther girl's eyes were gold. She had no weapons but, if looks could kill…  
>Now I was closer, I could see the slight slant to the beautiful girl's eyes. Part Asian, she was. She was grinding her teeth, by the look of it, at the hulk. It made me smile. The smile dropped when I saw her choice of weapons. She had two fingerless gloves hanging from her pockets, and both gloves had 30cm blades made of thick steel on all fingers except thumbs.<br>Marcus was staring at us, mortified. His lips were moving in soundless words, and his hands that gripped a long spear were white. His hair looked like it had been thickly covered in mud a few days ago but it had since then thinned so you could see the green still there, and his eyes were sea-green, like his hair before it was modified.  
>"Hey, Marcus." Xenia said, surprising me. She spoke to her cousin and for a second, it seemed like a private moment. But then I remembered it was the Hunger Games, and nothing was private.<br>"Hey, Xenia, how're things?" I was surprised when he answered. He spoke sorrowfully and his face was tight. I grimaced as his question reminded me of my own to DBD. Beauty turned to Marcus in a flash.  
>"Shut up, Marcus!" she snapped. Wouldn't like to get on her last nerves.<br>"I'm good, but I've been hurt a bit." Xenia's voice was tiny. She was mumbling but her eyes were big and pleading. Marcus blanched when she said the word _hurt_, and then looked steadily into her eyes, like they were conveying a message. Family could do that.  
>The hulk raised a fat finger and pointed it at Xenia. "You have hair," he said, grinning delightedly. Both mine and Xenia's eyebrows raised in shock. Thank you, Captain Obvious, I didn't know Xenia had hair. "Like his," Big-and-Stupid continued, and raised one of his hands to Marcus' head and tried to touch his green locks. Marcus just rolled his eyes and batted the giant's hand away like he'd done it a thousand times before.<br>"Gonar! How many times do we have to tell you? When we're confronting the enemy, you don't talk to them, nor do you touch Marcus's Hair. Ever!" The Asian girl shrieked at the hulk. Gonar, I corrected myself.  
>Gonar himself lowered his hand and his head and spoke to the ground in the voice of a child who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Sorry Shayla, sorry Marcus. Gonar won't touch your pretty hair again." He spoke in third person. How odd.<br>"I'm sorry for your pain." Marcus told Xenia. Shayla looked like she was about the kill him with her eyes. Marcus all but ignored her, but I could see him perspiring in the moonlight. Xenia's hand tightened on the tree branch she was holding onto. She was crying again, and that made me mad.  
>"Leave her be!" I shouted at him "If you truly wanted to help her, you wouldn't be hunting us- her- down!" Now the panther-girl smiled at us. Her eyes shone in the moonlight and she spoke for the first time since she came to the clearing.<br>"Why wouldn't we do that, idiot girl? As if we would let you go, when we have two new tributes to kill." Then she switched her view to Marcus and smiled, her eyes glittering. "You can do the honors, Marky. Just throw the spear. You haven't had trouble doing that with other tributes. It should be easy for you to kill these two." That triggered a shocked expression from Marcus, whose face went white, to pale grey to green. In me, it triggered waves of hate that made me say possibly the stupidest thing I've ever said.  
>"Over my dead body," I snarled whilst drawing my biggest knife, and with such menace Gonar looked up from the floor, Shayla's eyebrows rose an inch and Marcus flinched again. But the black-haired girl just smiled and I realized my mistake.<br>"That can be arranged," she purred. Then she clicked her fingers at Marcus and his eyes widened as he looked at her.  
>"Jessamine… Jessamine please-" he pleaded with her. She shook her head, and both she and Shayla shouted at the same time.<br>"Now!" they shrieked. He had no choice unless he wanted to die himself. He turned to us and aimed his spear up, balancing it on his shoulder. He moved to stand directly below us, and I felt guilty. A drop of water dripped on Marcus' face, and I realized one of Xenia's tears had fallen onto his cheek. I turned to her. Her eyes were wide with fear, but it didn't look like the fear was for her. She was staring at Marcus and shivering with the cold, the shaking racking her tiny frame. And then I looked at Marcus. He was staring at me, hard, like this was the most important thing he ever looked at. He mouthed a sentence at me. No, not just a sentence; a plea, an apology, an instruction.  
>"Take care of her," he mouthed at me. A tear fell from his eyes, and then he threw his spear, hard and fast, straight at Jessamine. Then he was running.<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

Of course Jessamine dodged, the spear just nicking her stomach, but Marcus was fast. Faster than her, perhaps. He was off; running through the trees like a bolt of lightning, but Jessamine was hard on his heels, surprise not even slowing her down. Shayla paused for a millisecond before she was after them. "Stay," she held out her hand to Gonar whilst jogging backwards in Marcus' and Jessamine's direction. "Watch," she pointed at Xenia and I, and then she was off, putting on her gloves with blades where the fingers should be.  
>Gonar turned to look at us, and his cheerful expression had returned. I knew how to save us, so I did the only thing I suppose I was good at: I smiled like a beacon at Gonar.<br>"Hey, sweetie," I chirped. He smiled happily at me.  
>"Hay-lo," he spoke slowly, pronouncing every syllable clearly.<br>"Can we come down?" I shuffled my foot a fraction, but the slight movement caused Gonar's eyes to zone in on my booted foot and he stiffened. "You okay?" I called down to him, but he lowered his hands and then suddenly, unexpectedly, he roared and punched the tree. I was glad I had hold of Xenia's elbow, because the tree _actually_ shook. And it was so sudden. My heartbeat leapt into action and was racing like it was running a sprint. I had seen a reaction to nothing like this before, in my father. I think the doctor called it bipolar disorder. And suddenly I was twelve again and terrified out of my wits.

"Chicken or beef?" my mother asked my father. He was a beast of a man, hulking stomach, broad face, hand clutched tightly around his second bottle of strong liquor. He had my green eyes but thick red hair was clinging to his scalp in a vain attempt to make it look like he still had some hair left over his whole head.  
>Mother was the opposite to father. She had my honey-blond hair but had blue eyes, and she was wearing a blue dress with an apron over the top. Mother took care of the baby animals in the pens, whilst father worked with the horses.<br>"Beef," he grunted. Mother asked me the same question, and, being the idiot I was, I blew out my belly and pretended to clutch a bottle of liquor too.  
>"Beef," I said in the same pitch as my father, and then my face lit up as I laughed. Mother chuckled weakly then turned her scared eyes to my father. He was staring at us, eyes wide in rage, and then he slammed his bottle down on the table. Mother motioned for me to go, pushing me off my chair. "Go to Arielle's, sweetie. Go now!" she was shrieking at the end, and I was running. But not to Arielle's my best friend's house who happened to be my neighbor. No, I tore outside then crouched at the kitchen window of our corrugated steel home and watched the horror unveil.<br>Father roared and threw his bottle of liquor at my mother, and she ducked out of the way; amber liquid running down the wall where the bottle smashed. Father then staggered out of his chair, stumbling towards the kitchen to vomit in the sink. Mother was shaking against the wall, but took hesitant steps towards him. Quicker than I could possibly expect him to move after just vomiting, he spun around and grabbed mother by the throat. She screamed and I stood there by the window, shaking with my heart beating faster than a hummingbird's. Father pinned her to the wall opposite me, pulling her up the wall so her feet were dangling a good ten centimetres off the ground. Mother's eyes flickered to me at the window, and she choked and gargled. "Please, Abelard, let me go. You don't want to do this. Just think." Mother rasped out. Father gritted his teeth, but didn't listen, just backhanded mother across the face, and I think he broke her cheekbone. She screamed and I clapped my hands over my ears. Father than proceeded to bash and strike my mother; breaking her arm, nose and giving her two black eyes whilst she screamed in pain the whole time. He knocked her to the floor and started kicking her, then drew a knife from his belt. The same knife he had shown me how to throw, and the same knife I took with me into the barn to throw at the targets my father had set up in there for me. He held the knife aloft and then brought it down on my mother, yelling "I'll teach you to laugh at _me_!" I couldn't see mother because she was behind the table but I could hear her cries break off into a moan. And now I was screaming. My high-pitched wail made my father look directly at the window and at me. His eyes grew wide as he saw me; forearm clasped to my ears, wet cheeks and mouth open in horror, and he turned to my mother on the floor, his eyes widening as he realized what he had done. A pool of blood was steadily forming, but he dropped to his knees and started to cry. By now, the neighbor's were coming and Arielle's mother had me by the shoulders as she, too, looked in the window and saw the monster in there.  
>In the next week, my father was executed by the peacekeepers for murder of his wife. I was orphaned and was left on my own. I would've gone into foster care, but I pleaded with them to let me stay. I worked extra hard in the fields, leaving at six in the morning and returning and seven at night, with only an hour for lunch break. I only worked on the weekends and Wednesdays, and went to school the rest of the time. Sometimes, if the weather was bad, we didn't have to work and I'd go to the barn and throw knives, or hang with my friends in their houses or the horse stables.<br>Arielle's mother came and checked on me every week for the first few years of my lonesome, but then she grew lazy and either told Arielle or her older brother Jet to do it or didn't come at all. I grew apart from my friends, but I got better at surviving. But that meant I grew more violent and angry until finally, I snapped.

"Calm down," I held out my arm, palm up, to Gonar. There was still a few metres gap between us, but I hoped he'd get the message. He was breathing heavily through his nostrils and glared at me.  
>"Come down here and say that again," he growled, so different from the meek, childish hulk I saw just a minute ago. Xenia was frozen on the fork of the tree, and I knew she was listening hard for Marcus' screams or a cannon fire. But I had more pressing matters than reminding myself that I owed my life to a cheater; I had to get us out of this tree. I shook Xenia by the elbow and she glanced at me. 'Down on my call' I mouthed at her. Her eyebrows creased as she deciphered my message.<br>'What?' she mouthed back, but I suddenly dropped lightly from the tree and landed on the opposite side from Gonar.  
>"Come and get me, stupid!" I laughed and he charged but I had the advantage. I was smaller and slimmer so I could more easily dodge trees. My heart was beating a mile a minute, but I yelled "<em>Down!<em>" and ran like the wind through the forest as Xenia pleaded with me to stop.


	12. Chapter 12

I knew I had no hope of out-running Gonar if I got out into open plain—I could sprint for two hundred metres or so, but then my muscles bunched up and I slowed, usually tripping over my flying feet. I also couldn't risk turning left or right yet, in case this gave Gonar the advantage to catch up to me. I glanced over my shoulder to check he was chasing me and he was. But as soon as I looked, I was sprawling, my foot caught in a tree root.  
>Because I had been running so fast, I didn't have time to put out my hands so I hit the ground on my chest and kept rolling. Head over heels and then over a slight embankment as dirt rained down upon me from where my flying feet had kicked it up as I fell. I was facing the river and was sitting on the bank. In the distance I could see Shayla slipping into the other half of the forest across the plain. The Cornucopia was shining with glinting golden sparkles as the rising sun hit it and I couldn't breathe. I had floored it so spectacularly I had winded myself and it felt like one of my ribs might be out of place. But I was never one for accurate self-diagnosis so instead I crawled over to a patch of weeds and puked up water and stomach acid as I hadn't been able to force anything down my throat last night.<br>I expected Gonar to come crashing through the trees and pummel me but all I could hear was desperate cries for Shayla. "Help me, _help me Shayla_!" It was definitely Gonar crying, but I didn't know why. What could have that giant calling for help?  
>I waited for a minute until my stomach calms and I can breathe properly again, and then I draw my largest knife and go hunting for Gonar. I crept through the undergrowth, wondering if Xenia had got away. I heard him before I saw him. He was howling for Shayla, and sobbing just in general. I poked my head around the tree and saw what he was crying about. There wasn't a giant killer squirrel who had mistaken Gonar's head for a nut, no snake that was trying to send its poison into his veins. He was howling because he had fallen over. He lay on the ground as he struggled to get up, and as he flailed his limbs, I saw a few scrapes on his limbs as he kicked up tree roots.<br>I was about to send my dagger into his skull when I noticed something weird. Why wasn't Gonar getting up? He was flailing and looking like he was struggling to rise up from the ground. I mean, he was strong and he had trained for the Hunger Games. Could he have somehow fractured a bone or something? But this didn't look like physical pain he was feeling. There was panic in his eyes as well as tears, and now he was screaming for Shayla like it was the only word he could say. Then I saw them. The tree roots I had thought he had kicked up were moving. Snaking over his joints and locking them to the ground. It was probably what had tripped me too. Now I had noticed them, how could I have not seen them before? They were knotting his neck to the ground, tying his arms from the elbows and his legs from the knees, all his joints, pressing them right into the earth. It must have been very painful.  
>I stepped forward, to the edge of the small clearing. I didn't know what to do. Cut the roots and hope that he won't kill me afterwards? Slit his throat to end his suffering? Leave him to die a horrible death? As these options spun in my head Gonar fought and looked up and my imposing shadow. "Shayla?" he whimpered.<br>I wasn't a nice person. Looking after Xenia and Danni had been the total opposite of my personality and a huge effort on my part, and I only did it at the start because they would benefit me. I had killed that boy from district eight without batting an eyelid. I was antisocial and it took a lot of pleadings from Arielle to get me out of my house. Sure, I had fun once I was out, but I didn't like meeting up with people and pretending to smile and like them. So what I did next was completely impulsive and it surprised even me.  
>I crouched and cut roughly through the root that was at his neck. In my haste I accidentally scraped his neck, but his howling didn't intensify so I continued without apologizing. My heart was thumping in fear, however I moved to his arms and legs soon enough, but it took me longer than it should have because I had to fend off my own roots.<br>As soon as I was done, I was tugging on Gonar's hand and helping him up, running through the forest to the embankment where I had fallen. The sun had risen now and the arena was already heating up. Gonar was panting and crying, with red marks on his skin where the roots had rubbed his skin raw. He kept glancing at me, then quickly looking down when I met his dark eyes. I didn't know what to do now, and I didn't know where Xenia was. Wasn't I supposed to be protecting her? But I couldn't leave Gonar now that I had gone to that much of an effort to save him, and I hadn't heard Marcus's inevitable cannon fire yet, so I guess he was faster than I assumed.  
>Then, like I had jinxed it, a scream of utmost pain reached our ears from the other side of the arena. We both froze on the spot and looked towards the forest on the other side of the plain. The scream was followed shortly after by a blast of a cannon that echoed around the arena. Gonar's eyes widened and I took a sharp intake of breath. What would he do now? Then I was stumbling backwards away from him as soon as I heard him utter; "Shayla?"<br>"It wasn't her, it wasn't her!" I screamed, but it was too late. His fists clenched around his brass knuckle-dusters and he roared. But now there were no trees to punch. Nothing but dirt, river, piranhas and… me.  
>He caught up with me in a second, and threw me to the ground, yelling "What you do? You hurt Shayla? Why? <em>Why you hurt Shayla?<em>" I was definitely gonna hurt in the morning. If I made it till tomorrow morning. Gonar's fist slammed into my shoulder, and the knuckle-dusters hurt like hell. He kicked my stomach, but I couldn't do anything except wrap my arms around my knees and sob, "It wasn't me, Gonar… I didn't hurt her." But it was no use. He was going to break me in half and feed me to the piranhas. I was going to die by the painful way of being beaten to death.  
>The Capitol was going to love this.<p> 


	13. Chapter 13

I hurt too much to support my arms and neck anymore. My tight grip around the elbows loosened and my head rested on the floor. Tears streamed down my face onto the hard dirt, mixing with the blood that was streaming out of my mouth and nose. I gave up. I couldn't do this anymore.  
>At least I would see Danni again.<br>I imagined his face, smiling and laughing, and his black hair that always flopped over his eyes. His dark, dark brown eyes were always sparkling with happiness especially when he was looking at Xenia. I remembered him the last time I had seen him. His neck bent oddly, a puzzled expression knitted into his face. More tears streamed down my face and I choked on the blood streaming from my mouth. Danni had been so happy all the time, it was one of the things that had kept me sane in these games. I missed him so much.  
>And then Gonar stopped. Just like that, the attack stopped. What happened? I raised my head. There, standing in front of me, was Xenia. She was staring determinedly at Gonar, having just pushed him away from me. And then she ran back into the trees. He followed two steps, before she was swinging back towards him off a branch that was higher than him, her feet landing exactly on both of his pectoral muscles. She pushed off hard, and flipped backward off him, catapulting herself into the trees. Only I saw what happened next. One second, Gonar was teetering on the edge of the river. The next, he had fallen over the edge and into the water. And you know what that means.<br>Piranhas.  
>He struggled and flailed, but not even five seconds after entering the water, he started screaming. A cloud of red billowed out around him as dozens of fish tore off his flesh.<br>Even I had to look away.  
>After the cannon fire, when I eventually looked back, there was nothing but a stream of red water flowing down the current. No bones, no flesh, no Gonar. Just blood.<p>

That day, I decided to take us away from the river. I was pumped with adrenaline, but Xenia wasn't herself. She was hunched over and her face was pinched, her eyes wide and teary. She was pale and she felt hot. I guess she was in shock. And she was angry with me. It was the first time I'd heard Xenia shout since she'd yelled at Danni to shut up on the second day in the arena.  
>She's angry at me because I left her. After I promised her that I would protect her, I left her to fight Gonar alone. I tried to explain that I was doing it to protect her, but she just screamed at me that protecting her meant protecting all of her, and her sanity and mental displacement had, apparently, not been okay when I left her. Protecting Xenia meant staying with her, until the end.<br>A cannon fired. Xenia jumped and then whirled around. I was still behind her, but tears still fell from her eyes and she still stifled a sob. She was breaking, and the games were getting to her. Ever since Danni's death she hadn't been the same. Crying more, never smiling, hugging me every night before she went to sleep. The Hunger Games was breaking my little girl.  
>I stopped short. Where had that thought come from? But I realized it was true now. Xenia was more than a sibling. She felt like a daughter to me. I don't exactly know what having a child feels like, but, if anything, I bet it would feel like this.<br>Xenia looked at me questionably, but I moved, quickly, pulling out my knife, to shove her behind me into a tree. Danger. I knew it was coming, because a hovercraft had just materialized out of nowhere and was picking up the girl from district seven. Danni's counterpart. From here I could see her wrists and throat were slit and blood was running down her body like a waterfall. And I'll be damned if she got to the final six and then committed suicide. Then someone was screaming.  
>First I checked Xenia. She was frozen in place, watching the district seven girl disappear into the hovercraft. I calculated the screaming was coming from, at most, a kilometre away, and they weren't just screaming. "HELP ME! Is someone there? Anyone? <em>Help me<em>!" they were howling. The voice was decidedly female, and I quickly calculated who was left. Jet was the only male left in the Games, and he had a deeper, hoarser voice. Jessamine and Shayla were over on the other side of the forest and Xenia was a step behind me. That left the girl from district one, who was replaced by Jessamine as one of the strong tributes. Jessamine was really from district three, which anyone could tell because that's where some of the illegal experiments go on with the tributes for the Hunger Games. Therefore, Jessamine was either totally blind or had enhanced vision by the unnatural colour of her eyes, and I had a rather big reason to believe the latter.  
>Suddenly, Xenia had squirmed out from behind me and was running towards the noise. I sprinted after her, grabbing her arm and snapping "Where do you think you're going?" She glared defiantly at me, and muttered something. "What?" I growled.<br>"I _said_ someone's yelling for help! Let's _go_!" She pulled her arm out of my grip and stalked off in the direction of the piercing shrieks. I was stunned, but then fury engulfed me like fire.  
>I grabbed her arm again and swung her round to face me. "<em>Oh<em> no, you do not just go _walking_ off to help someone in the middle of the bloody Hunger Games!" I snarled. "You really think that person needs 'help'? You're walking right into their trap!" That set her off. All the emotions I suppose had been bottling up inside Xenia burst out in a fit of rage directed at me. Her aqua hair and blond re-growth practically turned red.  
>"Oh yeah? Well <em>I<em> think they need help. No one's _that_ desperate to kill someone! I think they really need help! And I actually _like_ helping people, Mesilla!" I figured I knew, deep down, what she was getting at, but right then I didn't listen to my instincts of just going with her and protecting her, instead of getting her angry and making her say these things. I just led myself right into this trap.  
>"I help people!" I snapped.<br>"Oh yeah?" she sneered at me. "Just like you helped Danni?"  
>That hurt. It stung, like a thousand tracker jacker stings. Like the time I fell off my horse back in district ten and knocked my head on a rock and dislocated my arm. But much worse. Much, much worse. Because this was coming from Xenia, my Xenia, and she practically just told me I had let Danni die, when I actually did all that I could've to save him.<br>Tears welled up in my eyes so quickly it scared me when my vision went blurry in about two seconds. Now it was my turn for a meltdown. I had had all these fears that I had buried about the fact that maybe I had been the reason for Danni's death, and now they all came blubbering out. Before I knew it, I was crying, a full scale breakdown and, for the first time, Xenia didn't comfort me. My knees collapsed and I sunk down onto the forest floor, tears falling rapidly from my eyes, apologizing to no one about the death I couldn't have helped. When I looked up, Xenia was terrified, her hands pressed over her mouth like she regretted her words as soon as they fell out of her mouth. I knew now that she hadn't meant to be spiteful, but I also knew she secretly thought that I had let Danni die. I wanted to accuse her, and tell her to run to her certain death. But all that was coming out of my mouth was apologies to Danni. And suddenly I hated life. I hated it all. Everything had been trivial until now; the big fact was that I was meant to die in this arena. From the moment I volunteered for the Fifty-Seventh Hunger Games to now had all lead to this. Where I would either decisively go to my own death or stay here and cower in the shadows of a tree that Danni had pulled grubs out of.  
>Xenia uncovered her mouth and started to apologize. I cut her off. With a shaky breath, I just stood and said, "I don't want to hear it." And walked off, towards the screams that had never ceased.<p> 


	14. Chapter 14

As I walked, I didn't know if Xenia was following me. I strode past the clearing with the man-eating plant in it, and not long after that I found the source of the howling. It was coming from a slender figure that wasn't facing me, but the stream. This girl was sitting in this little clearing she had made herself and was shrieking so hard the mockingjays were picking up the frequency and echoing it around the arena. Golden hair that was, somehow, still sleek and shiny fell to her waist and on her belt she had a small leather pouch. I wondered what was in there. Blood splattered her hands to her elbows and she was staring at them, screeching like a banshee.  
>"Hey," I said loudly. I guessed she didn't hear me because she didn't stop screaming. When I realized I was still crying myself I shouted at her in a fit of anger. "SHUT <em>UP<em>!" the screaming ceased and so did the mockingjays. She turned to face me, and immediately I knew something was off. Her face, there was something wrong with her face. Her skin was as pale with no blemishes and her hair fell perfectly on either side. Her lips were sea-shell pink and full, and her eyes. Her eyes. They were… unnatural. Blue, sapphire blue, with thick lashes and very big. Too big. Her eyes were out of proportion with the rest of her face. Then I remember the first day of training and seeing the boy from district one by himself. I brushed it away at the time, thinking the girl was coming, but she hadn't come for the rest of the day. The next training session, she was there, but I didn't look. I was busy learning to survive. When I finally bumped into her at the edible-plants station she smiled and said sorry in one of the quietist voices I had heard. I tried to remember if she volunteered for the Hunger Games but I couldn't pull her face from the district one tribute reaping. Something about her face was different then, but I couldn't place it like I just did. She had had bags under her eyes, and her eyes were shadowed as well. Shadowed and half-lidded, like she couldn't keep them open. I saw a tiny network of criss-crossing scars on her eye-lids and immediately stepped back. I scowled at her and said "Just don't touch me again." I was such a charmer.  
>Anyway, once I got over her face, I scrambled away from her. The blood was fresh, only just starting to dry. I tried to asses where the injury was coming from, but I couldn't see a source. And then she whispered, "I tried to save her,"<br>It clicked. It slid into place. This was where the district seven girl got killed. And this girl killed her.  
>I swung my dagger up and prepared to throw it. She must have known just how to cut the blood vessels to get that girls' blood running like that. I was about to throw when something floated down from the sky, between me and her. A silver parachute. I hadn't seen one since I watched last year's games alone. The last one to be received was a thin woven belt, which the victor used to strangle his last opponent.<br>I stared at the parachute, all murderous thoughts forgotten. Was it for me? As I stepped closer, the district one girl seemed to come to her senses and snatched the gift. I frowned at her. "It's for me," she snapped, in a voice different to the one she had been using. She seemed to notice that too, but just widened her eyes at me. "Sorry," she murmured, sorrowful again. "Gianna was my friend. We were allies. The animal that killed her ran after I clawed out its eye." I didn't recoil, knowing I had done worse. A cannon fired, and I almost screamed for Xenia, but I didn't. I didn't even turn, only blinked twice and watched my chest rise and fall rapidly as I breathed.  
>I suppose I broke off the alliance we had, walking away from her. She had weakened the bonds that tied us, but the act of finally leaving and not caring to return or contributing a thought of worry if she didn't follow was the final swing of the axe through the bonds we carefully built around ourselves. I found myself regretting weakly that it had ended like this. But now we were down to the final five and it was better that someone else killed her, because I knew, that if it was down to us, I wouldn't be able too.<br>But then I realized it was because of Xenia that I had found this girl. I was still struggling to unearth her name from my memories of the reaping, but it wouldn't come to me. I remember last year there was a girl called Nyx and a boy called Scythe that volunteered, but they both were killed by a tornado that swept through the arena on the final day. I recalled the boy's name slowly, as if through a fog. Spark. It was an unnecessary burden to name your child after a way to die, but I think he was killed by the toads anyway. I flinched as I remember the tongue burning a hole through Danni's cheek, and turned my mind away. District one girl's name started with… M. it wasn't such an unusual name if I hadn't recalled it by now, but maybe it was too regular for me to remember. Oh well, now she would be M, or maybe Em.  
>"I'm Mara," she said, solving my problems. "Aren't you the acrobat? And you had an alliance with the blue-haired girl…Xenia. Where is she?" I saw a glint of something that could've been tears or anger, but I was too upset to consider either.<br>"She's gone." I said. She smiled sadly.  
>"I heard your little screaming match," I frowned at her, my senses slowly coming back to life. For one thing, how did she know I had an alliance with Xenia? I hadn't seen her since the final interviews. And, another thing, I just realized she thought I had just said I killed Xenia.<br>"I'm here," Said a voice I recognized behind me. I didn't even need to turn around to know Xenia was there. I ground my teeth in frustration. I didn't want to associate myself with her anymore if she thought I had killed Danni. I was about to spit at her when Mara stopped me with the most ludicrous thing I had ever heard.  
>"Want to join our alliance? We were thinking about moving away from here if you wanted to come with,"<br>We? _WE_? What the hell was this _we_? I just learnt her name for crying out loud! I narrowed my eyes at Mara but she didn't seem to notice. She just smiled as Xenia gave a teary nod, and then started to glide through the woods on tiny steps that made her look like a fairy.  
>"Come on Mesilla. Let's go," I stood there, stunned. "What's your name again?" she asked Xenia, even though I <em>knew<em> I heard her say Xenia's name when we first talked. But I couldn't do anything but wait or leave, so I walked over to Mara and glared daggers to let her know I wasn't happy about this arrangement. I slung my bag around my shoulders and sauntered off, in the general direction of the plant clearing. Xenia followed, chatting quietly to Mara, who I didn't like. I despised both of them, but I suppose one night of rest would be good and then, just like to old me, I would kill them both in the morning.  
>Happy, happy Hunger Games.<p> 


	15. Chapter 15

When the anthem played and we saw that Gonar, Gianna and, surprisingly, Shayla had died today. It looks like Jessamine had turned on her. I hoped Shayla had injured Jessamine, but the odds usually weren't in the favor of those in the Hunger Games. Then again, I did volunteer.  
>Mara edged towards Xenia and I shook out the sleeping bag from my backpack. "Can I ask you something?" she said. Xenia looked very tired, but nodded slowly. "Why didn't anyone volunteer for you?"<br>I suppose it was strange. I mean, Xenia was from one of the districts that supplied a healthy choice of tributes in the games. Now that I thought about it, I'm surprised I didn't ask her this before.  
>"Last year," Xenia began in a dull voice that told us how tired she was and how much pain his subject brought her "The two tributes from my district volunteered. One of them was my aunt, who was eighteen. They fought well, and got to the second last day. Then, out of nowhere, the tributes from district one caught them, turned on them from their own alliance." She was talking about Nyx and Scythe, the ones who volunteered at last year's reaping. I remembered the pair from district four being sturdy, with ropey muscles and strawberry blond hair, both of them. "We watched as my aunt escaped and then they forced her to choose. Her fellow tribute from district four, or her freedom? She chose her freedom, of course, and so they tied her to a tree and forced her to watch as they dismembered the male tribute. It turned her half mad. Then, they let her go, gave her a ten second head start, and then went after her." She took a shaky breath. I couldn't remember this, but it was freaking the hell out of me and I hoped I hadn't watched this. "They caught her and covered her in cuts. Then, as if her bleeding to death wasn't the worst torture they could find, they took an axe and cut off her fingers and toes. Then they left her to die. No one was game enough to volunteer this year, since those incidents. They say we should stay clear for a few years, and that it's bad luck to enter a game after your predecessors have been killed in such gruesome ways. But, you know," she smiled at me. I almost smiled back until I remembered I was angry at her. I glared instead. "It's all taboo, right? I've made it this far."<br>Mara looked faintly green and I knew my face must have been pale. I shook out the sleeping bag and quickly escaped into the darkness of the folds of material. "Thanks," I heard Mara mutter. I wanted to go to sleep quickly. I felt sick, and I'm sure, right now in the Capitol, after hearing that recollection, people were reminiscing about how great that Hunger Games was.  
>I almost vomited.<p>

I curled up in the sleeping bag, trying to keep the shivers at bay. Mara had first watch but I could see her nodding off in the tree, and Xenia, since I promptly refused to share the sleeping bag with her, had my jacket over her legs and the black cap back on her hair. I could hear her teeth chattering from here, so, grudgingly, I raised my head.  
>"Psst," I whispered. She lifter her head and I could see the light of the moon reflecting off her eyes. I gestured for her to come over. I made space in the sleeping bag. "Hop in, Miss Frost." I'd accidentally used the nickname I use to say when I made her get in the sleeping bag after she'd been on watch. She was always cold as the temperature was dropping more and more every night, but that was okay, because we had each other. Well, we had had each other, before she accused me of- oh, I just couldn't be bothered being angry anymore. I would let her off the hook now that she was apologizing into my shoulder as she wrapped her arms around me. Xenia curled her toes into my shins, making me flinch because they were so cold, but I didn't complain. All I said was, "I forgive you."<br>She lifted her head in response and answered "It wasn't your fault." And the weight lifted off my shoulders as a single tear ran down my cheek. She smiled and laid her head on my chest and went to sleep. Right before I went as well, I saw the glint of something Mara was holding, and the shine of her eyes as she watched us.

The next day, as the sun shone in the sky and the mockingjays warbled the capitols anthem as it was the last tune they'd heard, I set off to hunt. Mara had set off with Xenia to wash in the stream and I would join them after I had caught us fresh game. Mara had gotten hair products in the parachute the other day, by the way. She said it was because she had had some sort of lice in her hair, but I didn't believe her. Judging by her hair, it looked like she had to wash it at least three times a week to keep it that full of shine and volume. Xenia had promised me to keep an eye on her as I hunted, but I didn't want to leave her alone too long. I'd promised her that I would be back in, at most, an hour. She had smiled and said to take all the time I needed, as she was craving meat. And fish, if I could get any. I joked that she was pushing her luck, but I would try, because it was Xenia.  
>I returned with two duck-things, four rabbit-lookalikes and two fish. It had taken me the best part of ten minutes to spear them, and I was dripping wet so Xenia better appreciate them. I think Mara would too, because as I left she had been saying something about omega three and hair shininess. Ha-ha.<br>I knew something was wrong as the mockingjays stopped singing. I broke into a light jog and found the stream that Mara and Xenia were washing in, and I just had to follow it a little past the man-eating plant clearing to find them. When I found their packs, I started panicking. There was driblets of blood staining Mara's decidedly pink pack (I know, how ironic) and her shampoo bottle was overturned and running into the stream. Then I heard a scream of torture coming from the edge of the clearing and my heart retracted several sizes. Only Xenia could sound so young and in pain.  
>I ran to where I heard the screams that were turning to whimpers now and saw a truly horrible sight. My breath seemed to stop and echo loudly in my ears, my stomach plummeted through my legs and into the centre of the earth, far away from where I was. My brain slogged slowly through the images, sorting through them slowly so they made sense. And then I was in hyper-mode, ready to attack.<br>Xenia was on the ground, blood pattering her face from where Mara crouched above her. A cut, deep enough to harm, not deep enough to kill instantly, ran long ways down each forearm, the same on each thigh. Light lines of red ran across both cheeks and her forehead, and two needles, like the ones you used to knit with but made of steel and as sharp as the piranhas teeth, were stuck through each of her shoulders, pinning her to the ground. A shallow line of red ran across her neck, blood beading slowly and then running into the earth. She was crying and sobbing, pleading for the pain to stop. Her tears were red and I saw that Mara had traced her eyes so, no matter which way the tears ran, they would be tears of blood.  
>Mara looked up from her work as I caught my breath. She smiled insanely and I saw that Xenia, bless her, had knocked out her two front teeth, making her smile as ugly as my dad's and blowing up her lip to the size of a banana. Blood was dribbling down her chin onto Xenia as she spoke, trying to hush her. She pulled two more needles from her leather pouch and I said the first thing that came to my head.<br>"Gonna knit me to death, grandma ugly?"  
>She snarled and dribbled blood and spittle onto a Xenia who was weirdly more happy now she had heard my voice. Happy wasn't the word really. It was more like brave. "You're gonna die now," she spat at Mara, and then smiled and shrieked, "Mesilla, kill!" like I was a dog. And, you know me; I was always one to obey.<br>I sprung to Mara, shoving her away from Xenia in a blind rage. She disappeared into the clearing with the man-eating plant in it, and I dashed after her, leaping through some hanging braches and swinging my foot blindly. It made contact with something that was either her knee or her elbow, and a sharp cry of pain pierced the arena air, and then the mockingjays who hadn't picked up Xenia's sobbing started warbling the tunes of cries of pain.  
>Mara must have been in this clearing before, because she carefully flipped over the protruding feelers and landing in a crouch, bridging across two feelers. She stood up and her luscious hair blew around her face. She had her hand cupping her mouth, almost like she didn't want to citizens of Panem to see her wrecked smile. Her looks must've been her advantage, until Xenia smashed her in the face and knocked her teeth out.<br>I smiled brightly at her, exposing my fully-intact teeth and she said, "At least my hair's nicer than yours!" a bubble of blood bursting on the corner of her mouth. I just rolled my eyes and listened to Xenia start some kind of warrior chant that consisted of my name and lots of 'hooh's and 'haah's.  
>Quick as lightning I whipped a knife from my belt and flung it sharply at Mara's face. She dodged to the side, the dagger whistling past her ear. She dodged it without getting harmed, though the dagger did cut off a huge hunk of blond hair. We both watched as the hair, still damp, floated sluggishly down, swooping a little. Then, almost as though Fate decided to smile on me for once, the hair clump landed lightly on a protruding feeler.<br>I looked at the plant, and it quivered, almost as though with desire. It was open again, a pile of slightly-disintegrated bones at a pile near the base. Yellow liquid started dribbling from the lips of the petals, but I had already dived out of the clearing when I saw the plant darken to the colour of blood.  
>The feelers erupted from the ground, showering Mara with dirt. She tripped, stumbling over the moving antennae of the flower. She only had time for a piercing shriek before the feeler wrapped itself around her body and pulled her into the plant's head, the petals closing over her with a dooming sense of finality. It didn't end though. She was struggling; needles piercing the thick petals only to be healed over instantly as she withdrew them. Bulges came and went where she pushed at the flower, but it wouldn't open. Then, finally, with a muffled sort of sigh, the struggling stopped and a cannon fired seconds later. The feelers buried themselves back into the ground or twisted around the trees. I backed away and turned to Xenia, who was simultaneously crying and laughing insanely at my victory and her loss.<p>

"Hey," I cradled Xenia's head in my arms. I wasn't crying yet, but I knew there was no saving her. Mara had cut her only about a centimeter shallower than she had cut Gianna. Her blood was flowing thickly, and her eyes told me she knew it too. But I would make her last longer. She was the last one, after all.  
>"Hey," she smiled at me, but she stopped because it hurt her face too much. "Good job," she whispered. My tears started and one fell on her cut on her forehead. I murmured apologies as I knew it stung, and I quickly wiped it off, blood smearing across her face and up my sleeve. I brushed the hair off her face. "I'm glad," her voice broke, sobs shaking her body "I'm glad this is finally over, Mesilla. I just want to go home." I pressed my lips together, thinking of how she would arrive home in a plain wooden box just tall enough for her body.<br>"I know, honey, I know. I want to go home too." She was crying now, tears of blood dripping off her face onto my jacket sleeves. I sniffed, and tried to smile. "It'll be okay now. It's okay now. It's okay now." I smiled at her, tears running down my face as I cried. I wanted her last memories to be of me smiling, not heart-broken.  
>"You know…what the best part is, though?" she said. I shook my head. "I get to see him again. Danni, I mean." I smiled at his name, choking on a sob at the same time. Of course that was the best part. It will be the best part when I finally die. When I finally leave the arena, in a box or not.<br>"Tell him… tell him I said hi, alright?" I whispered. She smiled, grinning brilliantly, beautifully at me.  
>"Of course. It'll be the first thing I say. Followed by, 'she loves you so much'." She smiled at me, through the pain, braving it for me.<br>"I love you so much," I said. And then, finally, she closed her eyes and slept. A cannon fired, and I couldn't hold it in anymore. I howled and cried, clinging her body to me; until strong arms and the scent of home took me away to a place with a rock ceiling and the smell of a fire.


	16. Chapter 16

I had mixed memories of that night. Some were of sitting by a fire in a cave, another was of someone putting a jacket on my and wrapping me in the sleeping bag. Someone usually was touching my face, my arms, maybe trying to get me to talk. I couldn't remember.  
>When I gained full regularity of my conscience, the fire was extinguished and I was waking up because sunlight from a stray beam from a hole in the cave roof had fallen on my eyes. My eyes widened instantly once I didn't know where I was because someone's arm was thrown across me as they slept beside me, except they were outside the sleeping bag. The, as I inhaled to throw my attacker off, I got a whiff of home.<br>_Jet._  
>I scrambled up, and he was crouching at the opposite side of the cave almost as soon as he woke, already uncoiling a length of chain I hadn't noticed before. Then he grinned at me lazily and flicked some invisible dirt off the spearhead attached to one end of chain. I had already drawn one of my middle-sized daggers as he spoke.<br>"Long time, no see, Mesilla." His voice was rough, almost as if he had a sore throat. His jacket had burns on it, and a long scratch ran down the side of his face, from his temple to the corner of his mouth. If he lived, it would scar, but he had done his best to patch it up with a bandage that was already bloody. The tip of his chain had blood on it too as did his hair and his hands and clothes, and he had various cuts and bruises on the visible parts of his body. His skin was the same colour, though, maybe a bit browner because of the savannah sun, and his eyes still sparkled with the casual flirtatiousness that was Jet Summers. It made my heart ache with loneliness and homesickness.  
>I aimed to go for the casual flirt that always involved me and Jet as we toyed with each other in front of Arielle so she got frustrated, but I couldn't, now that I've lost my whole family. I didn't think I'd ever smile again.<br>The grimace that had been my attempted smile fell off my face, and I just sighed. "It's good to see you, Jet. Did, uh, did you bring me here?" He grinned at me, then raising a hand to his face as it hurt him. He nodded.  
>"Couldn't leave you out there for the animals to find. Plus you were being loud enough to attract the last competitor. District three." I stared at him in shock. He had carried me here because he didn't want me to be hurt? How could he? This is the Hunger Games! <em>Why<em>? But instead of asking, my heart thudded painfully in my chest and I started crying again. And then I did something I hadn't done since I was twelve as I sobbed, chin on my chest. I opened my arms.  
>It took Jet three steps to reach me from the other side of the cave and then he lowered me to the ground, and tucked my head under his chin, rubbing soothing circles in my back. The he whispered, almost to himself, "What has happened to you, Mesilla? You were so, so… different, before this." Then I closed my eyes.<p>

I kicked his chair back and stopped myself short from slapping him across the face. Paul Lavourly was the mayor's son and the fattest kid in my class. Now he was at my feet as I leant down to him and smiled. "Fatty," I purred to him. He scowled back. "You're just like those overfed pigs in the Capitol, you know that?" he grimaced and I smiled at him, walking around the classroom as I dictated to the rest of the kids in detention. The teacher was aghast at her desk. As I walked past I knocked her half-eaten dinner to the floor on purpose. I knew she'd still eat it. "You just eat all you want and do nothing whilst the rest of us waste away, working hard and getting hardly enough to eat." By now, Paul had had enough. He muttered something evilly and the girl closest to him looked shocked. Must've been a threat. "What was that, fatso?" I asked.  
>"I said," he snapped, "Go join the Hunger Games if you want to eat so much. And maybe you can punch someone before you get killed, vent some of your anger." I stared at him in angry shock. I was a bully, I knew that, but no one had told me to go join the Hunger Games before. I glared daggers at him. It was like telling someone to shoot themselves in the head. No one in district ten would say something like that.<br>"Maybe I will. You'll just have to find out tomorrow, won't you?" I snarled. I kicked his chair again as I sat down in my seat. Tomorrow was the reaping for the fifty-seventh Hunger Games. Maybe I should volunteer. Save some hopeless wreck and eat the finest food in the world for a week before I get to kill people. It could be fun, I suppose.  
>The next day I went to the square with the rest of the people from district ten. I was sorted into the section with the fifteen-year-olds, with Arielle beside me. We had walked there together; her in a sea-green dress that matched her eyes and a blue ribbon tying her dark hair away from her face. Jet, her brother, had tied his long hair back and wore his finest shirt and slacks. I was in a white blouse and a deep red skirt, with a red ribbon keeping my hair from flying in my face. The clothes had belonged to my mother, and the skirt was roughly the same colour as her blood. I had winced as I put it on, but it was one of the few nice clothes that fit me now, and I had worn the others too often.<br>Arielle waved at Jet as he went to join the eighteen-year-olds in their little block, and I waggled my fingers at him too. He winked at me and we both turned to see Arielle huff at us and roll her eyes. We both laughed, but the laughter died down when the mayor took to the stage. She talked about the same thing she did every year; recounting the Dark Days and the war, and how the Hunger Games came to be. I was just nodding off when she introduced our Mentors for this year, Gren and Zoe.  
>Gren was tall; at least six foot two, and had long, spiky red hair. His eyes were brown and they crinkled with concern when he looked at all of us potential tributes. His mouth was a thin line, with what maybe were laugh-lines around his lips, though it looked like he hadn't laughed for a long, long time. Zoe was the complete opposite. She was around my height, with straight, dark hair in a ponytail and blue eyes. A smattering of freckles crossed her nose, and her hands were folded protectively on her newly-pregnant belly. She was smiling at us, and I remembered that she had won the games four years ago when she was seventeen by hiding in a cave almost the whole time, catching animals by snare which she checked in the middle of the night so she could eat. Then, on the last day, she emerged, weak and frail from lack of sunlight, and killed the last man by shoving a sharp bone from an animal she had eaten through his neck when he tripped over a rock. It was only from luck that she won.<br>Gren, on the other hand, was a true victor. Receiving occasional gifts, he joined with the careers because he was fit and strong and massive. They hunted down half the competition, then he left them to fight amongst themselves. On the last day he met with the last girl and they fought hard. In the end, he had her on her knees, facing the ground, and then he cut off her head. He hasn't been the same since. Gren had been one of the people who checked on me, a kind boy would who read me stories when I was haunted by nightmares and cooked me the occasional meal. When he returned from the games, he never visited and never really left his house in the victor's village.  
>Gren and Zoe sat down again, and then the mayor introduced our escort. He was new this year, since last year's escort had screamed at our tributes for knocking her wig off. She was getting old, anyway. This man had dark blue hair and electric purple eyes, with a relatively normal outfit on. The only abnormal thing about him was his left arm, which was covered in swirling tattoos. He bounded over to the glass ball and grinned at us. He had a youthful face, and only looked about twenty. Must be his first escorting gig.<br>"Hi everyone!" he said in a fast, garbled Capitol accent. "I'm Nero, and I'm really excited to get to escort your competitors this year! This is going to be so great!" he was greeted with stony silence, only punctured by a baby gargling and the oxen calling from the distant fields.  
>"Well," he didn't let our silence get him down as he bounced over to the glass ball on the right of the stage. "Girls first, yeah?" he almost asked us. I groaned. He made a big show of shuffling his hand around in the glass ball, but, after about ten seconds of a growing anxiousness in the environment, he just pulled out a slip. He cleared his throat and read, "Nissa Elconte!" the crowd made the heart pained groan it did when a young one was chosen. Nissa, a thirteen year old girl, walked forward with her black hair shining in the sun. Nero smiled at her and clapped her on the shoulder. "Don't look so down, girl! This'll be great!" and he laughed. I could almost see Nissa's parents charging from the crowd and beating him up.<br>Nero walked to the next glass ball, and, on impulse, I shouted "Wait!" he looked at me, and flashed some unnaturally white teeth in my direction.  
>"Yes?" he asked, sounding the slightest bit irritated.<br>"Aren't you going to ask for volunteers?" I called up to him. I could almost feel him unconsciously check me out. He rolled his eyes like he knew there wouldn't be any and I just wanted to give this girl a chance, but he turned back to the crowd.  
>"Any volunteers for Nissa, people of district ten?" he asked the crowd. I felt Arielle freeze beside me, as if she knew what I was going to do, and I heard her whisper that it wasn't worth it. But I was done playing it safe. I needed some action. Just as I opened my mouth, my eyes found Jet, staring at me. He shook his head and made a cut-throat action over his neck with his finger. I smiled sadly at him as Nero said "No? well, too bad."<br>"I volunteer!" I claimed, raising my hand and waving it wildly. The citizens of district ten looked at me blankly as I sauntered onto stage and smiled at Nero. Then I turned, found Paul Lavourly as he gazed horrified at me, and winked at him. Nero clapped me on the shoulder and Nissa fled offstage, tears of relief streaming down her face. I saw her mother mouth 'Thank you,' to me from the crowd, and she gave me the saddest look like I volunteered just to save her daughter. Which was stupid because I volunteered to kick some ass.  
>Nero walked over to the next glass ball and shoved his hand in it. Another production of hand-shuffling, and then he pulled out a slip with the boys name on it. I prayed it was Paul Lavourly. I'd like to beat him up properly.<br>"Jet Summers!" Nero called to the crowd.  
>I heard Arielle's anguished scream from the sidelines and felt a twinge of regret. Her best friend and her brother entered in a fight to the death. How great for her. I winced as Jet waltzed onto the stage and Nero clapped him on the back. Nero turned to the cameras and smiled. "I'd bet my money on him!" he winked and asked for volunteers from the boys section. No one stirred. Nero introduced us to each other, and Jet smiled mockingly at me as we shook hands.<br>"Great to meet you, Mesilla." He said. I saw an ocean of sadness behind his eyes.  
>"Pleasure," I replied. I squeezed his hand and then we turned away from each other, still gripping hands, to face the crowd.<p> 


	17. Chapter 17

When I woke up, he was gone. Soon after, so was I. Today was the last day, I could feel it. I ate all the food I had caught yesterday and now I had staying power and stamina. Then, I made my way back to the plain that was the middle of the arena. I made it in about half a day, so the sun was in the middle of the sky when I got there. It was hotter than any day I had survived here and when it was summer back home. When I was on the edge of the plain I saw someone sitting atop the Cornucopia. They were sitting up and alert, so it wasn't Jet, it was Jessamine. I saw a weapon glisten as she shot something into the far side of the wood, and then I saw Jet. He was just on the side of the wheat field opposite to me and he was living up to the acrobat status. He was dodging whatever Jessamine was shooting at him by cart-wheeling and hand-springing around. I took immediate action by prowling slowly onto the plain, retreating back into the forest and digging out my sunglasses after two steps.  
>I got halfway before she noticed me. She turned and I saw that someone, I'm guessing Shayla with those knife-gloves, had cut off her left arm. She had a shot gun of a sort pointed at me with her right arm, and when she pulled the trigger and forced me to cartwheel in the air to dodge; I saw that it shot little darts that combusted when they hit the floor. She had a thick bandage covering her left arm and another one covering her forehead. Both were slightly bloody.<br>I flung a dagger at her and she had to leap from her perch to dodge. I ran around the back of the Cornucopia and saw that she was holding her own against Jet in hand-to-hand combat. She as incredibly fast and, by the looks of it, she knew pressure points. As he swung with his right hand, she ducked under the blow and jabbed his stomach to the left. I saw instantly that his left leg stopped working. He collapsed to the ground, but used the momentum to kick her legs out from under her. She fell, but landed beside him and prodded a spot on his neck. He stiffened all over, and she rose to her feet unsteadily, but she laughed. Then, as she brought her gun to his forehead, I came to my senses and flung a dagger at her. It cut her stomach but I had missed her vital points so she danced away from Jet, so at least I had done something right.  
>We faced each other, and then she froze. Jet moved slightly, so she must only induce non-permanent paralyzation. He rolled onto his side and tried to say something, but it was so slurred I couldn't understand it. His tongue must be paralyzed still. I looked back to Jessamine and was totally surprised by the fact the she was turning and running away from me, dropping her gun. But I wasn't stupid enough to guess I was that menacing. So I turned and looked at what just rose into the arena behind me.<p>

Its skin was a grey colour, the colour of rain-splattered slate. Its arm's had three joints each with huge folds of extra skin on the shoulders, and were so long they reached the ground; its claws like sharp half-moons, scraping ruts in the savannah plain. It was so emaciated you could count its ribs easily; I didn't believe it had enough room for a stomach. To prove my point, its arms were pockmarked with countless syringe holes. Its legs were short in comparison to the rest of its elongated body, but still skeletal; the kneecaps bulging like balloons. Its face looked incomplete; it had half a cranium, its skull dented on the right side of its face. One of its eyes was half-covered with the flap of skin that, I could only presume, was supposed to cover the missing half of the cranium bone. Its other eye was bloodshot and the whites-could I even call them that? - were yellow, like old parchment. The pupils were black like obsidian. It had tusks sticking out of its mouth, stretching the side of its lipless maw to the limit. I could see the blood the dried skin couldn't keep in from the stretched corners of the mouth. The tusks were yellow and sharpened to a point as sharp as a needle. It had no lips, only grey skin stretched tight over a smooth blue mouth. I could see no teeth, only grey gums and bright blue saliva dribbling down its chin. Its nostrils flared; two gaping holes in the middle of its face, dusty brown mucus edging the sides. What was on its body was the scariest part of the mutt. It had twenty-one eyeless faces sticking out of its skin in random places, on its thighs, shoulders, pectorals muscles and shoulder blades. All the faces were screaming in terrible, absolute pain. My heart sank as I realized who they were. Even eyeless I could tell the blood-thirsty careers from the no-hopers who never stood a chance. All the tribute's faces that had died were here, sticking out of the creature's body. The two faces on the things chest struck me the hardest. Even without her oversized eyes, I could see Mara's screaming features, and Xenia, I could see her screaming, just like she had done when I couldn't save her.  
>I heard a strangled moan from beside me. I hurried backward to Jet, where he murmured "Run, get away," to me. Jessamine was looking back at us, but that only made me more determined to bring Jet with me. I slung his arm around my shoulder and grabbed his waist. I got a sudden flashback of me grabbing his waist to dance with him at his eighteenth birthday. But I promised myself that now I was needed intensely, I couldn't black out. I needed to get Jet away from this… thing.<br>We hobbled away, and Jet wasn't noble and told me to go without him. I wouldn't have had it anyway, and maybe he knew that. Jet was almost healed as we reached the halfway mark between us and the Cornucopia, so I let him go and turned to see where Jessamine was.  
>It was the only thing I hadn't expected to see. Jessamine was crouched on the plain, her only hand over her right ear. As I moved closer, I could hear that she was murmuring something quietly, and it sounded almost like a poem. I drew my knife, but she looked up and I saw real fear in her eyes. But I gripped my knife harder and reasoned to my new-found kindness that this person had killed Marcus and Shayla, not counting many more. But she sprang up and away from me, flipping backwards so her foot caught my chin, surprising me so I bit my tongue. Blood began to flow down my chin, but I just brushed it away and felt the dregs dry on my chin from the heat of the day.<br>The creature wasn't doing much. Besides from its frightening appearance, it was slowly just walking towards with a limping gait. I returned my attention back to Jessamine when she suddenly shrieked. My eyes widened as I saw her break down again, sobbing and talking gibberish to herself. I brought my dagger round again and hesitantly walked towards her. "its skin is grey, its claws like knives/it has claimed your loved ones lives…" she was saying. She went on, in a poem that seemed to be about the creature which sounded like it had originated from the mad ideas of district three.  
>Suddenly, it moaned. It was a deep sound, strangled, almost and filled with longing. I looked at it, and it raised its claws slowly, like lifting them was an effort, and pointed at me. Even though it was still a good ten metres away, I ducked behind the senseless Jessamine who was cowering in fear, having frozen with the sound of the moan. Then I hissed in pain as she gasped and looked down at the three knife-like protrusions that were poking out of her chest. They had scraped my wrist, but had killed her. A cannon fired just as Jessamine's body retracted with the things arm, the folds of extra skin being pulled back to where they were originally and not extending the arm any further, flying away from where I was where the creature mumbled in delight as it smelt the fresh blood on its claws. I ran.<p>

Jet was already at the cornucopia, stumbling where he tried to find a foothold on the hot metal. It burnt my hand when I tried to touch it, but I just whipped my jacked off, cut it into quarters and wrapped one half on both my hands. With the other half I almost threw it to Jet. But I hesitated. One of us had to die right? But the Dr. Jekyll to my Mr. Hyde fought me and I threw my jacket over, but I was already half up when that happened. He mumbled thanks and I watched him from my perch on top of the cornucopia, but he was still numb from the paralysis and he climbed slowly. While I coached him on, the creature got closer. I was terrified, and that was saying something, and he wasn't climbing fast enough. Blood was running down my arm, but I just kept screaming at Jet.  
>I was senseless from fear. The creature kept moaning, and I kept screaming and doing nothing about my arm. I knew I should do something, but I couldn't. The blood was pouring down the side of the cornucopia to where Jet was climbing. The creature could smell it too, and was slowly picking up the pace. My first mistake was not listening to Jet. He paused on his ascent, looking at me and yelling. The words were filtered through my ears fuzzily, like he was yelling from behind thick glass. I couldn't process them, so I just reached down and tried to help him up. The blood had made his hand-holds slippery, and as he tried to grab my wrist he slipped a metre or so down before he could catch himself. Now he was closer to the ground then to me. And, ever so slowly, I pulled myself back from the ledge and away from Jet. That was my second strike.<br>"Mesilla, help!" he called, frantically, but those words drifted slowly into my brain, through the fear and numbness. But when they did process and I did rush to the edge, I saw Jet, who had seemingly slipped again and had his feet on the ground and back pressed to the cornucopia, calling my name. He had his chain out and was rotating it fast in the air, keeping the beast confused for the moment.  
>"Jet!" I called and he faltered, the chain wavering and banging against the cornucopia to drop to his side. He turned, looked me right in the eyes, meeting my green ones with his hazel, and the last look I got from one of my best friends was fear. That was my last strike, and now, I was out of the game.<br>He didn't even moan when the claws pierced his chest. I screamed and lent over the cornucopia edge as far as I could, but I couldn't stop his body from being whisked away from me towards the beast, or the cannon firing. I screamed again and clawed at my arm trying to make the pain stop by opening my wounds wider. I clawed at the tracker in my arm, my nails raking my flesh, but underneath the pain and panic, I registered the trumpets and Claudius Templesmith saying "Ladies and Gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Fifty-Seventh Hunger Games, Mesilla Tomwitch, from district ten! Congratulations Mesilla!" but I didn't listen, I wanted to follow my friend and die. Don't I deserve that? Don't I deserve peace after all I've been through?  
>I felt the ladder touch my shoulder, but I didn't grab it. I would never leave this arena, not really. So why pretend to leave now? I just kept trying to claw the tracker out of the arm, and the last thing I remember feeling was the painful injection as a sedating dart was shot into my shoulder.<p> 


	18. Chapter 18

When I wake up, I'm numb. I don't remember anything, I don't feel anything, and I just lay there. The ceiling is really white here, I think, in the Capitol. Then, with that name, I remember. Something jumps into frantic beeping and I realise it must be a heart monitor, but I just don't listen. I sit up suddenly and, ignoring the pounding in my head, leap out of bed ripping out cords while doing so. As soon as I'm up, I notice the clothes beside me. They're the same clothes I wore in the arena. Brown jacket, green tank-top, black leggings and brown boots. I flinch away from them and, instead, scoop up my bed sheets and wrap them around in a sort of dress that trails on the floor behind me. Then I walk over and examine the machines. One pronounces that I am dead because of the flat beeping, and the other, an I.V, is trailing liquid onto the floor.  
>The wall opens soon, and I escape, dodging the doctor that was obviously sent in to check on me. I ran down the hall while he called his attendants on his fancy head-piece, and go looking for someone, anyone, I recognise. As I run, I hitch up my dress-sheet, and am surprised to see how plain my legs look. They have a slight tan, but that's all. I check my wrist, and see three raised scars where the beast clawed me. I cringed from that memory and kept running.<br>I didn't know where I was going, and everywhere looked the same. All where bleached white stone hallways, and everywhere I went, people looked at me, clearly recognising me from T.V. Finally, I don't know how, I reached an elevator. I looked closely and saw a slight dent in the metal where, I'm sure, I had slammed my foot into it after I got here on the first day. I jabbed the button furiously and soon, but not quick enough; the elevator gave a tired ping and opened. It was empty, so I ran through and pressed the button for the ground floor, and, just as the doors closed, I heard Skree's voice from down the hall yelling me to stop. But I didn't because I needed to escape.  
>I was halfway to freedom when the elevator shuddered to a halt. I jammed the lobby button a thousand times, breathing fast and just stopping myself from screaming by muttering curses under my breath. When I realised I wasn't going anywhere I sank to the floor in the corner of the elevator and clutched my knees to my chest. The amount of times I had seen Xenia adopt this pose at night was countless, and that made me bury I head into my knees. The sheets stretched from corner to corner of the elevator floor, and I started screaming when the light went out.<p>

I woke again, back in the hospital room. This time, I remembered everything, and I just lay there, until someone came to check on me. They fluttered around me, anxious, but I stared them down until the broke and called for someone who knew me. Then Gren whisked in, eyes, crinkled with concern again, and ordered me to get dressed. This time I agreed angrily and shoved on the arena clothes, not caring that he saw me naked.  
>We met up with Zoe in the room I had spent my days in the Capitol, and she pulled me into an embrace which was awkward over the pregnant belly between us. She clasped my hands after that and smiled, her lips pink with lipstick and her cheeks flushed from too many Capitol drinks. At least someone was enjoying getting looked after.<br>I couldn't stand her presence, so I grab my hands away and whisk off to my room to stare dejectedly at the wall. But not for long, because my prep team comes to collect me. There is Lola, who has green curly hair and yellow skin, Ryta, who has small gems embedded into the skin of her breast-bone and bright purple hair, and Eoin who wears grey lipstick and has three deep black lines running from each eye to join together and connect to the corner of his mouth. Lola and Ryta laugh and claim they knew I would wine, and even Eoin manages a scowl that tells me he is also relieved I'm alive.  
>The polish me to perfection. First, they gave me a shower they program themselves which washes away the remains of my tan from the savannah sky and the brown dye from my hair. Then they set to work on my body, which they waxed and painted. My nails were covered in clear lacquer and my hair pulled off my neck in rollers, a style they assured me was not for the official recapping, just for now. The only things 'natural' they leave are all my scars. "Skree wanted them," shrugged Ryta when I asked my team about it. Then, they gave me a blindfold so I wouldn't look and brought out something that made a whirring sound and told me to sit still.<br>Two hours later, I was told to take my blindfold off but not open my eyes. My team set to work on my face and I smelt the distinct banana smell which told me Eoin was working on my eyes and mouth. Soon after they were done, I heard the erratic clip-clopping of Skree's chunky wedges on the floor, I turned to say hi, but my prep team screamed and clapped their hands to my eyes. I groaned and turned back. I heard Skree's tinkling laugh and then the rustle of fabric.  
>"Arms up," she told me, and I obeyed. They fitted the dress and the stood back, then hitched something heavy and momentous on top of the dress, seemingly sliding them onto my shoulder blades. "Open," Skree commanded, but I first felt the dress. It was silk, and the front went to my knees. I felt around the back, my hands nervously crawling over the layers of the dress, and felt it descend as it got further to the back. I opened my eyes, and saw the back of the dress reach the floor and trail for a bit when it reached the dead centre of my back. It was strapless, with a big bow on the strip of ribbon on the dress under my breasts. He tails of the ribbon were the first layer of the streaming bodice of the dress and where a silky cream colour. From the knot of the bow to my knees was a thin pearl-coloured piece of silk fabric that was unbearably plain. My shoes were delicate white heels that showed my toes. But the best part was my body.<br>The first words Eoin had ever spoken to me were right then. He must've seen it in my face, because he grunted, "Feel free to cry on stage," and his eyes shone defiantly.  
>I had twenty-three names tattooed on my body. On my collar bone side by side were two names. <em>Danni<em> one read, the other _Xenia_. Over the centre of my chest was _Jet_. The name _Jessamine_ trailed delicately around my right wrist and I spotted _Marcus_ twirling around my shin. Eighteen other names were everywhere. On my shoulders, my knees and my ankles.  
>"They're not real tattoos, of course," Skree assured me "We just used a high powered marker to get it like this. And, as you can see, we've given up on the circus theme. And I left your scars because they show what you've been through."<br>My face had smoky eyes and high cheekbones. My hair was back to honey-blond and twirled in ringlets that were twisted into a loose bun. On my back were two beautiful angel's wings that fluttered according to my movement. They were white, but were dusty gray around the edges, like something beautiful on the edge of sadness. And I looked in the mirror and saw they were reflecting me.

"It'll be fine. Just sit tight and wait." Gren smiled and patted my head, the most comfort he had ever given me since making me a meal. I sniffed and he pointed a stern finger at me. "No crying yet, keep it for Ceaser." Then he tapped my nose and walked off. I waved to his retreating back and started inspecting my body. I didn't bother to hide my snort of disgust at the irony of the names _Mara_ and _David_ both circling my right knee.  
>I waited until Ceaser introduced my team, Nero, Gren and Zoe. He congratulated Zoe on her baby bump, and then hushed the crowd to give me a dramatic entrance. My wings fluttered anxiously as I stood on my metal plate, but I stood tall and looked defiantly forwards as the metal plate I was standing on started to rise.<br>"And here she is!" I hear Ceaser shout to the crowd as I blink, panicked by the sudden intense light blinding me. I could feel my wings fluttering as fast as my heartbeat and the roaring crowd hushed as they noticed it too. Some idiot wolf-whistled and then I blinked, and I could see.  
>The crowd was staring at me, as were my prep team, Nero, Gren, Zoe and Ceaser. Cameras would be trained on me, so I switched my tactic immediately to adapt to this new arena. Good thing I've used this tactic a lot.<br>I smiled at everyone and waved. My smile was big and warm and was reflected at me on the televisions on the wall. I walked gracefully to where Ceaser was standing with open arms. I acted on sickly sweet instinct and launched myself into them, surprising him and the crowd. After a moment's hesitation he hugged me back, wrapping his arms awkwardly around my wings, and settled me down on the chair that was ornately decorated for the Victor.  
>The crowd were whispering, and I could see the cameras getting close-ups on my tattoos, then quickly zooming out once they saw the name <em>Shayla<em> or _Gianna_. Suddenly, I was wondering what my team had done. I remembered Eoin's eyes gleamed in defiance and my heart throbbed. My eyes found Skree's, and she was staring at me, for once not eccentric. Her eyes were shining and she boldly lifted her chin and set her jaw.  
>I'm distracted by Ceaser starting to joke that I'll fly off, and I force myself to smile and laugh. I act well, I think, but, as Ceaser says, this is not an interview, and soon the recapping of the games begin. The lights dim and the Capitol seal appeared on the screen in front of me. I clench the arms of my chair as it starts.<br>To tell a story from weeks and condensing it into days must take a lot of hard work. This year, they tell a story of a girl who defies everyone to show she doesn't care. But she does care once the games begin. It starts with the reaping, me waving gaily and smiling at the crowd while Nissa runs back to her mother. My heart clenches when Jet joins me on the podium and I'm almost about to scream at him to run. They show the other reapings and my heart thuds every time some I killed shows up. The girl from eleven, whose name was Jane, and David, who smiles at the crowd but can't hide his shock. The boy from eight, who has to prise his little sister who is clinging to him so hard her hands are white to go up on stage. Jessamine, who does not volunteer but is reaped like most of us. I see her kiss her boyfriend goodbye and cry as she says farewell to her district. And then there is Gonar and Shayla, who volunteer. I see Shayla's family smile and wave goodbye. My stomach vanishes when I see Shayla lead Gonar off the stage by his hand, swinging it and smiling as she talks to him. Mara, who blows kisses to her district and Spark, who I never even knew, grasp his brother's hand as he gets on the train.  
>Then there is also district four's reaping. Cries of anguish shatter the air as we replay Xenia's mother, who is the replica of her lost aunt, crying when her only child is summoned onstage. You can see Marcus's look of surprise, hurt and anger when he is chosen as well. They hug when they get onstage, her blond hair clashing with his bronze.<br>District seven was the saddest, for me. Gianna is literally pulled from her boyfriend's arms to be thrown onstage, where she collapses, sobbing, only to stand up and crush Danni to her in a hug when he is chosen, even though the reporter said they had never met before in her life. The crowd all groan when he is reaped. The camera swings to his family. His mother faints, so her three children under twelve have to catch her. Two more kids beside Danni are in the reaping pool as well, so one of her six kids being chosen was practically inevitable. Still, as one of Danni's sister huddles in a ball on the ground, he must have tried so hard for his family. He walks almost casually onto the stage and shakes his mentors hand. He only cries after Gianna hugs him, and they both are escorted to the Justice Building by Peacekeepers.  
>This all lasts five minutes. The rest of the first half-hour is dominated by training scores, chariot rides and interviews. I get to see all of mine in full, but for the rest I hardly see them. There's a horrible track playing, some upbeat, boppy music that makes it all seem like a carnival. And I am so weak I am already crying.<br>Once the games start, there is a full length bloodbath for me to see. I watch as six people die and the strong tributes converge. Then I see myself kill the girl from district eleven, and I see Xenia, her eyes full of life and strength that was her before Danni had died. It cuts to Danni hurriedly running from someone through the field, but he loses them and finds the boulder. We come an hour later and I choke on a sob and bury my head in my hands. But I have to keep watching.  
>Confirming my theory, Spark is killed by the toads. He was so close, too. He was running parallel to us when he heard Xenia scream. Changing direction he runs right into the swarm of toads. They converge on him and he dies not long after. To my shock, Drop-Bear Dude was following our movement since we entered the forest, checking where we were so often. A camera in the trees showed him staring at me for hours at a time, and it seemed he did actually like me for me, not just for my body. He had laughed at my snide comments on Danni's height and was sympathetic when I was down. He almost had my empathy until he decided to kill Danni.<br>My head was hidden for a full five minutes after his death. When I emerged, Ceaser offered me an embroided handkerchief which I took but only because he insisted. His eyes were wet too, and I knew Danni had been one of his favourites. I had missed our whole confrontation with Shayla and the others, but I couldn't see them as bad now I had seen their reapings. I just wanted this to be over.  
>At the final eight I saw my interviews. First, it was Arielle, saying how amazing I am. Then I saw the Capitol reporter saying my parents were dead, and that she was looking for Peter and James. I flinched, thinking my cover was blown. And then I saw 'James'. It was actually someone I didn't know from district ten but- wow, he was goo-ood looking. Dark blond hair, brown eyes and tanned skin he looked like a typical citizen of district ten, a worker who loaded and unloaded cattle by the look of those muscles in his arms. He smiled at the camera and teasingly said he was disappointed in me for cheating. Then he purred that he'd be waiting for me when I won this 'shindig'. I gaped, but quickly closed my mouth when another fine-looking male stranger came on camera and I realised what was happening. They were covering for me. My district was lying about who they were so my cover wouldn't be blown. My heart swelled at those two stranger's courage.<br>'Peter' broke up with me on camera, saying he was disappointed in me but, if I was available, would like to "reconcile". He said that with a sly grin and I praised that guy's acting skills. It looks like I was back to dating one boy I didn't even know. At least I was cheating on anyone now. That thought didn't give me any comfort at all.  
>Shayla's death was a funny thing. She had tortured Marcus for a little while, and then decided to end it on Jessamine's cue. But then, I suppose because Shayla listened to Jessamine, Jessamine got arrogant. She had paralysed Shayla like she did to Jet, and then talked. It was like those evil villains you read about in lame stories, the ones that explain their plans to you. Like Jet, Shayla had recovered quickly, but, just as Jessamine bought out her small knife, Shayla used what seemed to be the last of her energy and lashed out. Jessamine had jumped backwards, but those knives were at least 30cm long and escape was impossible. Her arm was cut off and a long slash cut into her forehead, but through the pain, Jessamine screamed at Shayla and stabbed her through the windpipe, drowning her in her own blood when she withdrew the knife.<br>They play all of Xenia's death, and I saw Jet come and carry me away from her body. I hadn't fought him; I had just clung to him and cried. Right now, I'm hiccoughing and wondering how it is possible for me to be crying for two and a half hours already.  
>They show sad music that hinted at romance on the day Jet and I spend together. I suppose you could assume that, I think after seeing my reaction to his death. And a thought flits through my sadness at how much that would have annoyed Arielle. But I doubt it annoyed her now, she was probably just worried sick about us.<br>I silently thank the creators of this video as they finish it with me screaming in the elevator. That footage alone shows how solitary I am and how much help I needed to be calm. The symbol appears again and you see me passed out in the elevator with the sheet spread over the floor. I rise as President Snow enters with a young boy carrying the pillow which holds the victors crown. I smile though my tears as he places it on my head, and thank him and all of Panem for supporting me. I curtsey and wave for a long time, and then wipe my eyes and thank Ceaser. He smiles at me and I know he's on my side when I return his handkerchief and hug him. He whispers in my ear, "They're fine now, you know that, right?" and as Gren's stern arm guides me offstage I'm engulfed by another torrent of tears that I can't stop until I'm back in my room.


	19. Chapter 19

Compared to what I usually wear this is... bright. It's a cream-coloured wrap that ends a little before my knees with white flats and a white hair band pulling my straightened hair out of my eyes. I have golden wings that are smaller than my previous wings but are no less spectacular- they flutter and curl around my body according to my mood. I have gold swirls down my arms and a layer of gold glitter on my body, like a sheen of glittering armour. My lips are gold as are my nails, and I have kohl around my eyes which, surprisingly didn't make me look beautiful. It made me look broken.

Ceaser was the one to hug me when I walked in to the interview room today. "How're you doing, Mesilla?" he asked, stepping back but still holding my shoulders do he could look at me. I smile weakly in return and murmur something about being fine. He rolled his eyes and said "Do you know how many victors have said that? I know you're not fine, Mesilla. Now, let me ask again. How are you doing?"

I let my head fall weakly onto his shoulder. For a twenty-something year old guy, he sure knew teenage girls. I sigh. "I feel nothing. I'm numb, and I just want to forget." He looked sadly at me. Behind his face paint, his eyes were sad.

"Tell me about it," he groaned. I looked up sharply, but he was already strolling towards the couch and sitting in his place. I follow and get placed opposite and handed a drink to make it look like a casual conversation. The smell of the pink juice makes my stomach churn, but I sip it accordingly and smile. They count us down and then the interview starts.

Ceaser is the best. We laugh and joke, sniff and wipe tears from our eyes. We are so compatible and I have a feeling that he is the reason tributes own the camera. My clothes and victory make me memorable but him, he makes me unforgettable. And what is he, twenty-three? Twenty-five? He's amazing.

When he gets to the worse questions I feel my stomach tighten and my hands start to shake. Victors have been bad before, they've passed out and vomited, but I swore to myself that I wouldn't do any of that. I would be strong, for Danni and Xenia if for anything.

We were nearing the end of the interview when he asked me something I hadn't considered. "Mesilla, all your district must be watching. Anything you want to say?" he asks. My breath catches in my throat as I look directly at the camera, almost seeing the green pastures and fields that were my home. My heart ached with home-sickness and the only thing I could do was tell myself that I'll be back there tomorrow at most.

"I want to say... I'm sorry." I didn't know these words. I hadn't thought of them, but I just said whatever. Like I said, I was numb now. "I'm sorry I couldn't save him. I know all of you wanted Jet to come home, but you got me, and," I choked, and wiped my eyes hastily on the back of my hands. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I want you all to respect him. And that, out of respect, I want you to know that I think of Jet as the victor too, because he was himself to the end. But I wasn't, and now I'm not... I'm not..." I struggled, but I couldn't finish. Not now. Tears burned in my eyes and I hiccoughed. I rubbed my eyes and laughed. I looked up at the camera and from some of the crew's disapproving stares it looked like I had smudged my make-up. "Sorry," I practically whisper to the camera. "I'm so, so sorry."

It took Ceaser a moment to recover, but when he did he took out his handkerchief, again, and wiped his eyes. I knew this time it was fake, but it was a bonus effect. I turned my face from the camera and looked at a random corner of the couch. "That was so touching," Ceaser said to me. I looked at him and smiled weakly. A watery chuckle escaped my lips and we finished off with a few more questions.

"And that, Panem, is your victor for the fifty-seventh Hunger Games, Mesilla Tomwitch! She'll see you all soon, but for now, it's good-bye!" Ceaser signed us off and I waved and smiled and blew kisses to the cameras until they turned it away. I flopped in my chair and shut my eyes, exhausted from all the mental tension.

"Up," Skree's voice told me. I groaned, and she snapped "Fine, _don't_ go home." I pouted, but opened my eyes and lethargically got up. Ceaser was talking to the camera crew, so, with my wings beating in time with my heartbeat, I walked up to him, intent on saying goodbye to one of the few people on my side. I heard Skree huff and clomp away and I just rolled my eyes, typical teenager.

I interrupted, because I was grumpy. "Bye, camera man dude. See you soon, Ceaser." I smiled angelically at them and pretended I didn't just interrupt their conversation. Mr. Camera man seemed overwhelmed he was talking to a victor, so he just smiled simperingly at me, and in return I batted my eyelashes in his general direction. Ceaser scooped me up in a hug.

"Leaving so soon, Mesilla?" He asked after he had stepped back. I laughed in response.

"I'm homesick," I replied, which was sort-of the truth. I _was _homesick, but I just really wanted to get away from the Capitol.

"Well, give my best to... to..." my smile fell off my face when I realised he had forgotten about my parents. I felt my wings respond to my mood and curl around my arms, shielding me. He grimaced, but I just walked away. So much for a touching goodbye. I should have expected this from someone from the Capitol. He called after me, but I just went down to the elevators and joined Skree, Gren and Zoe, feeling the familiar numbness cloud my thoughts.

The train was rattling and it was _so_ annoying. There must be something loose in the engine or the machinery, but something was shaking against another metal part of the train and it was sending me off the rails.

I was in my compartment, lying on my bed just staring at the ceiling. I had changed into sand-coloured slacks and a brown singlet top. I hadn't gone to lunch when they had called me, but now I was regretting my decision. I sat up and, seeing I'd have to make my own food when I got home and I may as well live it up now, I went to the little microphone-thing in the corner of my room and ordered an outrageous amount of food and drink.

An Avox brought my food in, his hazel eyes annoying me instantly. I sent him away as soon as he set the food down and started eating. I had unconsciously ordered the same pink 'non-alcoholic' juice I had drunk after the chariot rides, and this time I set it aside carefully, wondering if the shaking train would knock it over.

When I was finished, leaving about half the food on their plates because I was full, I vowed I would learn how to make chicken risotto. I finished a bright blue juice that tasted of berries, and returned to the bed, stacking the plates carefully before doing so. Soon I would be home and, for the first time, I was worried. What would I do if I didn't recognise my apparent 'boyfriend'? But I suppose it didn't matter now, I didn't need the respect of the Capitol now I was out of the Games. But... I didn't want to blow their cover. I didn't know how the Peacekeepers would react if I told them that they faked their identities for me. Decisions, decisions.

"Wake up, Mesilla. We're home," My eyes snapped open, but Zoe was already walking from the room. I leapt up, grabbed some random clothes from the drawer, only looking for a second to see if they didn't totally mismatch each other. I ran to the bathroom, brushed my hair and positioned my skirt, which was a stupid thing to wear when going home to pastures and oxen, who will be the only happy living thing to see me. I wonder if I got to keep Gregg now I lived in the Victor's Village.

I ran out into the corridor and to the door of the train. My mentors were already waiting there and I bounced on my toes, wanting to smell the air in district ten again. Before I could go, though, Zoe tsked and wiped the smudged eyeliner under my eye, I jerked away, but she caught my face in an iron grip.

"You can't go out like that Mesilla. There _will_ be cameras out there." She growled. I rolled my eyes and pulled away again.

"Thanks _mom_." I snarled, regretting it once I said it but kept my composure. She looked like she was about to slap me, but I side-stepped her and opened the door to the citizens of district ten, smiling dazzlingly already.

No one was there.

Okay, I lied. _Some _people were there, but they were Capitol reporters. I brushed past them as I ran out to the main street, looking for anyone and ignoring their questions. Then, someone appeared at the end of the street. I immediately thought Arielle, but as they ran closer I saw they were broad-shouldered and taller than her.

_Jet_.

My eyes stung, but I fought the tears. I realised too soon that it was 'James'. My boyfriend. And, bloody hell, he was a great actor. He was running to me, smiling broadly in relief and happiness, and I knew I had to save him, because only someone who would willingly volunteer for the Games and _not_ change in them would let him get caught. I started running to him too, and when we reached each other I leapt into his arms and he crushed my mouth to his. It was a quick kiss, and I knew it meant nothing. It was simply for the cameras, but it was enough. The reporters were smiling and crying, but some were still asking blatant questions like "_where were the people?_"

I was still clinging to 'James'. I had to speak quickly. I smiled grandly at him and spoke quietly so only he could hear.

"What's your name?" it was a hushed whisper, but he heard it.

"It really is James. James Farquill." He murmured back, looking like I'd just said the most romantic thing in the world.

"Where is..." I swallowed and a tear fell on his face. I chuckled and wiped it off his face. "Where is everyone?"

The answer was unexpected. I was anticipating 'They hate you', or 'They're all dead'. Okay, maybe not the last one, but I would have thought it more possible of the rough people of district ten then what he said next.

"They're not here," he started, but I kissed him again because the camera man looked impatient. After, he hugged me and whispered in my ear, his breath tickling my hair. "They're not here because they're paying their respect to Jet, just like you told them too." My heart dropped, and I just wrapped my arms around him in need of a real hug now. He hugged me back, wrapping his arms around my waist and smiled at the reporters before hiking me up into his arms.

"See ya!" I heard him call to the Capitol people, and then he walked away with me, my arms still around my neck with my head buried into his collar bone, down the street. I was shaking, but now it was from contained laughter. "Did I mention," James said into my ear "That I am the son of Banner?" Banner was the head Peacekeeper here in district ten. James gestured to the peacekeepers and they stopped the reporters from chasing us further down the street.

One day, I was going to thank the citizens of district ten. My gratitude for what they did today was overwhelming. I never knew how much Jet meant to them till now, and I wasn't angry at them one bit for not showing up. In fact, I respected them. This was a first and probably a last too, but it was monumental. Now I know that I have a district who are trustworthy and honourable, beautiful people who respect their champions, but also their fallen. And in this circumstance, Jet was the champion.

And I had fallen so far that I didn't know if I could come back.


	20. Epilogue

We were back. I was one of the first off the train, looking and searching for anyone I knew. District ten was changed, the fields burnt by the bombs that dropped, the trees blackened by the fires. Most of the houses had been reduced to rubble and my heart stuttered painfully when I thought of the people caught in the carnage.

All the Peacekeepers had been ordered to stop the rebellion. The people of Panem had been rebelling against the Capitol rule since Katniss Everdeen had put those berries in her mouth, and, just when the rebels had invaded the Capitol, the Capitol ordered all the Peacekeepers to use any force necessary to quell the rebellion groups. The rebellion had started small; graffiti on the Justice Building, rotten meat given to a Peacekeeper. Nothing too large, but after the third Quarter Quell it had gotten larger. Dead Peacekeepers found in a paddock surrounded by the berries found locally here, an arson attack on the train station. No I hadn't lead it, but that was only because I had something to care for now. A family.

Yes, I know what you're wondering. And yes, I did marry James. He is actually a very sweet, compassionate man who I got to know a lot better after my Hunger Games because he was one of the few people who talked to me, besides my new 'neighbours'. He accompanied me on my victory tour to keep up the charade, and I don't really know when it became real. Maybe a year and a half after our stuttered friendship started and I knew him a lot better, and it was nice. Everything was comfortable with him and when I kissed him when no one was around he responded just like I wanted him to. And he was the only one who could keep the nightmares away.

Four years later when I was twenty we got married and, four years after that, Daniel was born. He has dark blond hair and green eyes and is the most serious boy I had ever met. He is always reading or working (on what I don't even know), but he loves playing with the oxen. I bought him one for him to own because backing on to my victor's village house was a giant grassy paddock in which Gregg had moved to and died, and now Samson lives. Samson is Daniel's ox, and is probably the dumbest animal alive.

Anyway, two years after Daniel came Xaviera, who is blond with freckles and absolutely adores her father. She is always swinging off his arms or sitting on his feet, but James never gets annoyed, he is so patient with them. She has a smattering of freckles on her face, just over her nose and cheeks, and has her father's eyes: dark brown.

I ran down through district ten trying as fast as I could to get to the victor's village. I couldn't go as fast as I wanted because I had Daniel and Xaviera with me, and they both had just woken up from the long train ride from district twelve to here, not to mention the walk for thirteen to twelve. They were grumpy and not at all in the mood to run, even if it meant seeing their daddy. James had been off fighting with the others rebels and had made me go to thirteen because there were rumours that the other victors were getting killed for helping out those in the rebellion, and because someone had to look after our two kids. I almost deemed Arielle fit, but she was still struggling a bit since her daughter was killed in the 74th Hunger Games, and she was unstable, so she couldn't look after my children. James had promised me that as soon as word got out that the rebellion was over he'd meet me at home. I closed my eyes for only a second, but a sharp stab of fear hit my stomach for him. I hadn't been sleeping well at all in district thirteen, especially when I caught a glimpse of our apparent saviour, Katniss. I mean, what was she? Sixteen? Seventeen? When I was that age- God I sound old- I was on my Victory Tour, then hanging around in a paddock with my Ox and my boyfriend. Now here she is, fighting the strongest force in our country to save everyone. But, truly, all I wanted was for her to save James.

I know I'm selfish for thinking that. But, for someone who didn't have much growing up, when James started loving me I felt like, soon, it would all slip away. And, sure enough, after so many years of happiness, he left me with two kids to save me. Apparently. But I didn't have to energy to stay mad at him. All I wanted was to get home and for him to be there with dinner waiting on the table.

We reached the victors' village after about ten minutes, and we slowed and started walking. I was catching my breath and looking for any signs that any Peacekeepers had survived. We sped past Gren's house because I didn't want my children to see that he was dead; lying half-in-half-out of his front door with a giant burn on his back. I knew Zoe would be fine because she would have co-operated with the Capitol. She was weak.

Finally we reached my house. It smelt like smoke and fire, burnt hay and an underlying scent of sizzled meat. The door was blackened, scorch marks on the outer walls and the garden was black, but that's about all the damage. On the outside.

I proceeded cautiously, thinking that it may not have been quite a good idea to bring Daniel and Xaviera here. We tiptoed to the front door, trying to avoid stepping on the burnt earth. I pushed on the door and it fell off its hinges, so we walked over it to get inside.

Inside wasn't so bad. There weren't any real signs of danger, but my victors instincts took over and I saw a vase on the shelf had been hastily replaced, the flowers sloppily arranged. A corner of the carpet was upturned, a picture hanging crookedly on the wall. There had been a struggle here that had been quickly covered up. By James or someone else I don't know, but I had to find out. I crept to the kitchen and grabbed a knife, only to hear Daniel whimper behind me. I looked at him and his eyes were washed with anguish as he stared out the glass-panelled back door. You could see down the grassy slope into the pasture and in the pasture was a spit, turning on its own over a dead fire. On the spit was Samson, his head cut off but you could tell it was him because of the distinct cattle burn on his left shoulder in the shape of district ten's logo. I gathered Daniel to me but I didn't have time to comfort him really. I turned back from the door and called out. "James?"

"Here," someone called, from upstairs. It sounded like James but I couldn't be sure, because you never know what kind of mutts the Capitol could create. I looked at my kids, thinking slowly. I could leave them here and risk someone coming and getting them or I could take them with me. If I took them with me I could protect them if there was one offender. If there were two, it was a long shot but maybe. But if there was any more than two, I was outnumbered and my kids would be hopelessly killed.

"Where are you?" I asked the voice, listening. I heard a creak upstairs, maybe from James shifting his weight.

"Bathroom." He answered. I snorted in derision.

"Why? Come down here." This was it. If I could get him to come down, I'd have a bigger chance of getting them as they came downstairs, if there really was an enemy.

"Well, I've sort of got a Peacekeeper trapped,"

My mouth hung open in shock for a few seconds, and then I shrieked, "_Why?_"

He sounded almost sheepish when he added, "In the bathtub."

"I'm coming up," I told him. I turned to Daniel and Xaviera. Xaviera was pale and shaking but Daniel had his arm around her and was staring determinedly at me.

"Don't worry mum. We'll be fine. I'm not going anywhere soon," Then he smiled and took a big breath of air, like he was showing me that he would be breathing like that for a while longer. Nostalgia hit me as soon as I realised that that was pretty much exactly what Danni had said before he had died. I took a shaky breath and cradled Daniel's face in my hands. He looked nothing like Danni had, but there was something, whether it was the unruly spiky hair or the spark of enthusiasm in his eyes that reminded me of Danni whenever I looked at him. I kissed his forehead and then looked at Xaviera.

"Hey, baby girl," I hugged her and looked into her eyes. She was shaking and her eyes were wet. "I'll be back soon, okay?" she nodded and I hugged her again. Her blond hair was wavy, like mine, but she had James's eyes; dark brown. Nothing like Xenia, but James had suggested her name and he knew I'd love it. I walked to the carving block and lifted a hefty knife from it, and gave it carefully to Daniel. I didn't have to explain anything to him, because I had explained many a time what could happen while we were in district thirteen.

I hugged my kids again and crept up the stairs. I stopped briefly in my room to rifle quietly through my cupboard and get my belt of daggers. Then I continued to the bathroom, where the door was only slightly ajar and I could see someone's silhouette, whether it was James's or an enemy's I couldn't tell. "James?" I asked, stopping outside the door and carefully checking my surroundings. The years of the easy life may have dulled my senses a little, but I could still identify a trap when I see one. But, even when I checked thoroughly, I couldn't see one.

"Mesilla? Oh good, come in slowly." James voice sounded confident and assured me for a second. I pushed open the door, dawdling so much it creaked, and peeked in. James was standing facing the bathtub where he had a Peacekeeper tied up, pointing its own gun at it. I held up my largest knife and tapped the doorframe loud enough for James to hear. "Hey," he greeted me as I walked in. I saw a giant burn covering his left arm which was dead, by the look of it hanging limply by his side, and his skin was red with sunburn, his shoulders and back peeling. He was wearing a tattered grey singlet and cargo pants with a belt, whip, canteen, a leather pouch and ammunition for his holstered gun on it. He had blood in his hair, on his clothes and on his chin, as well as lifting his foot awkwardly so he could keep his weight off it. I had no idea how he disarmed this Peacekeeper with one arm and being injured, but, then again, James was always very spontaneous.

"I think he's been hi-jacked." James said, casting a sad look at the Peacekeeper in the bathtub, who had started struggling violently against his bonds when I had stepped into the room. I nodded.

"What'll we do with him?" I asked. James shook his head wordlessly, frowning at the convulsing Peacekeeper. "The kids are downstairs." I added casually, but he glanced at me quickly, getting my message that this hostage was not leaving this bathroom conscious.

Eventually we decided to bring him to a doctor or healer, but seeing as Ms. Jacobson wasn't back yet from her refuge and Mr. Fennell was dead, we had reached an impasse. The Peacekeeper had gone quiet, slumped over with his back pressed against the tiled wall, but I didn't think for a second he had given up. If he'd been hi-jacked, it could make him remember all sorts of things. According to James's report, all the Peacekeepers that had been so recently sent from the Capitol had been hi-jacked against Victors who refused to comply or could not be found. They had all been gifted with flamethrowers and machine guns, which explained the scorch marks and the burns, and they all had a self-detonating device on them somewhere.

"Its radius is only about five metres in all directions, but it disintegrates everything. And I, um, haven't found the one on this guy yet." James added turning to me, holding my hand sheepishly with his only good arm. I turned to him too and gave him a bored, slightly exasperated look. I was used to dealing with danger.

"As long as his hands are tied." I told him.

"Too bad for you, then," someone said. We both looked over, startled, to see the Peacekeeper holding a flat disc, about the size of my palm in his right hand, with the rope coiled at the bottom of the bathtub. I hadn't realised James and I hadn't checked him for several minutes, leaving him unperturbed to untie himself. I took in a sharp intake of breath and he thumbed the button in the middle of the disc, and said; "Now, if I let go you and your hubby are both dead. But I'll let you let him go if you want; I only want revenge on you." He took off his helmet with one hand, showing us his receding hairline and broad brow that was shiny with sweat. I had never seen this man in my life.

James's hand tightened on mine as he glared, first at me, then at the Peacekeeper. "You won't kill her." He snarled, and his left shoulder twitched, as though he was aching to move it. The Peacekeeper brought out another device, this time it was the size of my thumb and had a tiny switch on the side, with his left hand.

"You don't let me kill her, and I'll flick this switch and, before you could say 'damn', another team of Peacekeepers will be here to kill your _children_." He drew out the word, and I ground my teeth.

"Let him," I turned to James, seeing his eyes widen as he looked at me. "I can't see a way out of this without one of us getting killed, and it may as well be me. I've done the worse things in this family, and you've done only good. The kids are too young to die." I crinkled my nose in an effort to stop sniffing. James was still staring at me, and I knew what he must be thinking. I never gave up, but today, because I'm tired, scared, worried, exhilarated and miserable, I just couldn't think of a way out.

"Just go, James." I pushed him behind me, to the door of the bathroom. He turned me around to face him when he got there, and kissed me, hard, on the mouth, stealing my breath and tasting my tears. When the Peacekeeper coughed, I pulled away from James, and gripped his hand. When I looked up to his eyes he looked more determined than ever to stay, so I shoved him out of the door and shut it behind him, turning the lock. I heard a single bang on the door, then a choked sob, as though James had punched the door in frustration. The Peacekeeper held out a meaty paw to me, glistening with sweat and dirt caking his nails. He smelt funny, too.

I hit his hand away and gave him a disgusted look, but I went to stand in front of the bath tub, where he was still sitting. He smiled at me, remnants of his last meal in his teeth. "This is for my children," he said placidly, like he was making conversation with me. I looked at him sadly. But I knew I could never convince him I hadn't even met his children before. I heard James thundering down the stairs, heard Daniel and Xaviera call out to him happily, and at last tears escaped my eyes. I had never begged before.

"Please," I whispered, but the Peacekeeper looked at me, hardness in his eyes, and I regretted that they will be the last thing I would ever see.

_I didn't want to die._

The Peacekeeper let go of the button.


End file.
